A Bit Confused….

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Happy Spring to all!   This is my favorite time of the year, without question.    I was away all of last week looking at colleges with our second daughter and our wonderful exchange student from Austria.    The three of us arrived back in Westchester to find the entire area in full bloom.   As for the trip, the girls arrived back invigorated and excited about the prospects that lie ahead for them.  I simply came back confused.

Let’s start with the information sessions.   Luckily, I am semi-fluent in the foreign language called “college admission speak” thanks to touring a zillion places with Danielle.  SATs, ACTs, APs, early decision, early action, restricted early action, the common app and other such lingo is now part of my vocabulary.  Other parents were not so lucky.   A few dads looked faint and one mom seemed to be hyperventilating.   I am sure that those parents looking around were searching for hidden cameras convinced that this was a bad episode of “Punk’d”.  The students, of course, were fine.

The college admissions officers often speak about the wonderful essay topics for that particular university.   Some examples included, “What does Playdoh have to do with Plato?” “How do You Feel About Wednesday?” and “Are We Alone?”.  I believe better topics may include, “What Skill Do You Have That Will Make Us Give Your Parents $50,000 a Year to Pay for School?” “How Long Do You Plan to Live at Home after Graduation?” and my personal favorite, “Regardless of Your Dreams to Change the World, Will You Still Give Your Parents Grandchildren?”.

Then there were the tours.   I absolutely do not remember having outdoor coffee shops and ethnic food courts on my campus.  Nor do I remember the school funding our campus parties.  There were a few kegs and some paper lanterns back in the day. One student told us how he and his fellow dorm mates purposely flooded their courtyard, built a pirate ship to go into the water, built a dance floor on top of the pirate ship and then hooked up an entire wall with LED screens that coordinated with the dance music.  My confusion was so apparent that the student kindly turned to me and simply said, “There were a lot of lights.”   Whew.

The best part of touring these campuses is seeing the students in action.    There are so many more clubs than I remember.  In fact, one school had 600 clubs for 4,000 students.  Those kids must be busy.  We arrived at another school to find rows and rows of tables manned by students.  Yeah! A craft fair!   Wait, why are some of them lying on the ground?   Why are others wearing grim reaper masks? Yikes, that is not candy in those bowls!  It seems that daily student protest at some schools has replaced intramural sports.

One theme, though, was consistent on each campus we visited from here to California.  The students share an intellectual curiosity that goes way beyond which job will be garnered after graduation.    They care about bringing humanity to ever-increasing technological heights and ever-encompassing social action.    I still remain a bit confused but I also remain in awe as these young people shine with a hopefulness that tells me everything will be OK.  Just like the dawning of Spring.

 


The 2012 Girl Scout Cookie Campaign is in full swing across the country. Almost every local council runs a program allowing you to purchase boxes of cookies for the purpose of donation. Our council sends donated boxes to our soldiers serving in the Middle East in a campaign we call “Operation Cookie Drop.” Last year, girl scouts from five counties helped pack up 46,000 boxes at the Armory in Elmsford. Every picture and note received from a soldier expressed thanks for a piece of home. Please contact your local Girl Scout council to ask where they donate cookies.Otherwise, if you would like to donate boxes to the troops, just send me an email to mad@madforbusiness.com and I will make arrangements to pick up the cookies for you.

Central Commander….

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Every week I try to keep notes on the things in my life that may be used for blog material.   This past week gave me plenty, but the overriding theme was the different roles the members of our family play in the overall decision-making process.  That is a nice way of saying that all would be fine if they simply remembered that I am the Central Commander and all movement must be cleared by me.

This position of Central Commander is one that is a singularly lonely position of power, one that I share with women everywhere.   After twenty-two years of marriage, I have come to terms that job-sharing in any form is fine as long as someone understands exactly what jobs need to be done and when.  My husband is a wonderful, patient man who spends lots of time away from home for his job, so I really don’t mind being in charge of the schedules.  What I do mind is when there are glitches.   Here are some examples from last week:

  • Our 12-year old decided that he wasn’t going to an important Boy Scout meeting, held at the same time weekly, and instead went to a friend’s house.  He took complete advantage of the fact that I wasn’t home and his father had forgotten that it was Wednesday.
  • Our 10-year old felt compelled to buy the HD version of every app on his iTouch.  He told me it was fine since he had the money to pay for all of the apps and he then handed me a wad of bills.  It seems his grandfathers keep handing him $20s whenever they see him.  We are a very close family so you can do the math.  First, Santa delivers the iTouch without a consultation and now this.   A clear breakdown in the system.
  • Our 16-year old owns an uncanny ability to ask for the same thing one hundred times, always using different words to express the request.  If only I had not allowed her to read so many books then maybe she would not know so many words.  This tactic often causes a systems overload in my brain.
  • An unclear message about pajama day prompted a 9:30 pm emergency trip to Kohl’s.
  • I received an email from our daughter in Scotland that sent me into an absolute panic.   Seems she meant to write “procrastinator” and “essay due” instead of “miserable” and “unable to sleep for days.”   She always preferred numbers to words.

Along these lines, I continually try to impress upon my family that their agendas really do matter, but they need to meet me halfway by giving me written notification of all activities.  I will even accept changes to the schedule as long as the request is received 24 hours in advance.  Doing this would allow me to concentrate on my other jobs, namely Inventory Investigator and Partner-in-charge of Procurement.  Those empty cereal boxes left in the pantry don’t replace themelves!

 

I have been exploring chemical free beauty and cleaning products for years now and lately I have been exploring the science behind it all for material for future blog posts. In the meantime, check out the cleaning products from Melaleuca.
 
I have tried them all and these products leave your house sparkling clean without the toxins. If you are interested in trying them out, please contact my friend, Jill Schantz at lucypelt@optonline.net.  
 
 
 

Maybe the Mayans are right after all…

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The Mayans have predicted that the world as we know it will be quite different after December 21st of this year.   I first heard about this from my seventh grade CCD students four years ago.   After doing some research, it seems that these changes are meant to be cataclysmic, not catastrophic.   One definition for cataclysmic is “…an upheaval that causes fundamental change.”     I, for one, would certainly welcome some fundamental changes in my life.   Here they are, in no particular order:

  • That the three-foot high pile of stuff at the bottom of the stairs be used as a weight lifting exercise while walking on an incline rather than as hurdling practice.
  • That the Yankees add a color to their uniform so that one of my sons could brighten up his blue and gray wardrobe.
  • That my other son would dress like superstars such as Jay-Z or Kanye as opposed to B-list rappers.
  • That all items that leave the kitchen arrive back safely before they become Petri dishes.
  • That the sum of the underwear coming out of the daily laundry not be less than the number of people who are living here.
  • That all of my offspring remember that I am not interested in their opinions of what I do wrong but rather, I prefer that they go off somewhere and talk about me behind closed doors.  It would be quite a timesaver for me.
  • That husbands the world over understand that the sentence, “I don’t need anything from you for my birthday.” is a lie.
  • That the world would once again embrace the curves of the Rubenesque form in women.  Thus, my dream of being a supermodel could come true.
  • That my dog would stop trying to eat my cats.
  • That gum is outlawed, or at a minimum, all gum chewers would attend a gum chewing etiquette course.
  • That we would all remember that one may not end a sentence in a preposition.
  • That one of my children would plan to go a college closer than a six-hour plane ride.
  • That the deer and I could form a binding agreement that I would feed them if they didn’t eat every flower I plant.
  • Finally, that wearing a tiara in public would be acceptable.

There are so many geographic, political and economic issues floating around that sometimes it may seem that the world is coming to an end.    I prefer to think that all of these issues simply point to our collective need to take a closer look at that which is truly important and to embrace it.   We humans have brought ourselves to the brink before and we always figure out how to move forward and do it better.  As for my list above, I can live without all of these changes, but one.   I really do want to wear a tiara.


Each week I will highlight a business whose goods or service may be of use to all of you.   My being able to thrive in cyberspace is due to the savvy and patient guidance of Holly Alexander, founder of TopSpin Communications. She has worked with me for the past year and a half to build a strong foundation in the world of social media. My ultimate goal is to build residual income streams that allow me the freedom to reach certain personal and philanthropic goals while teaching others to do the same. This blog allows me to chronicle the joys and heartaches of the journey.
 

Learn more about Holly and TopSpin Communications at www.tpspin.com.

Butterfly….

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Welcome to my new website, Mad for Business.   I am finally technologically organized!    Here you may find the entire line of vegan, all-natural Arbonne products, a way to save on your energy bill with Ambit Energy and this blog.

I spent the last two weeks fretting over this blog.  I thought about writing something hip, trendy and witty to reflect my new status in cyberspace.   I certainly didn’t want to write a sentimental piece.  That is so last year.  Yet, every time I thought about writing, only one thought came to mind – my grandmother.   She passed away on February 16th at the age of 98.   So, to steal from Meryl Streep’s Oscar acceptance speech, I say, “Whatever – I’m writing about Nanny.”

Madeline Massi grew up in lower Manhattan, where her parents ran the local grocery store.    Her social life revolved around her older brother and sister and she helped raise her younger brother, seventeen years her junior.   She met my Poppy, Frank Massi, in her teens and married at twenty-one.   Their sixty-year marriage remains a love story for the ages.

Nanny always reminded me of a butterfly, often seen as the most beautiful, gracious creature in nature.   She would almost glide into a room as if on the heels of a gentle breeze, never meaning to startle or to surprise.

When any of us had a problem she would rush to our side or pick up the phone, hovering until she knew that the problem was solved or at the very least, we were comforted.   Not unlike the butterfly that hovers over the flowers to make sure nothing interrupts their right to bloom.

Sometimes, all that was needed was for one of us to be heard.  Nanny would sit perfectly still, maybe even stroke our hand, and listen until I felt better.  It wasn’t until many years later that I realized how often she never even said a word for her love bathed us in so much warmth and understanding, no words were needed.

Her grace and charm were legendary.  Poppy’s career allowed them to travel the world where she met all sorts of people, even kings, queens and presidents.    Your status in life meant nothing to Nanny.  She simply wanted to know and appreciate the real you.

Her clothing tastes were impeccable and her hair was always perfectly in place.   The bag, jewelry, shoes and coat were always appropriate.    Again like the butterfly, one’s eyes would always search for Nanny in anticipation as she arrived.  While many women used the tools of beauty to portray themselves as important, Nanny simply believed that she owed those around her to always be her best and look her best.    She never failed.

Butterflies have always been a symbol of hope for me.   I can see the butterfly in my mind’s eye whenever I need to be reminded that beauty remains in the world.  For all of those blessed enough to know my Nanny, she will always be our personal butterfly.

 


Each week I will highlight a business whose goods or service may be of use to all of you.   My inaugural “shout-out” is to Beverley Delay, who most wondrously created my new website.   Beverley knew what I wanted even when I didn’t. Her services are so reasonable and everything can be done by computer and by telephone. Please do think of her for the web design needs of you and your friends.
 
Take a look at a sampling of Beverley’s work at www.beverleydesigns.com.
 
 

Limitations? What Limitations?

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I pride myself on being afraid of very little, and I work hard to push through obstacles whenever they appear. Sometimes, though, one must accept her limitations.   The key is how she handles them.  I’ll use myself as an example.

I have no sense of direction.  Many years ago there was an article in the New York Times about a study (on birds, no less) that proved that a person’s directional capabilities depended on how many magnetic ions were in one’s head.  Obviously, I have none.  

I first compensated for this by marrying a guy who could go somewhere once and return to the same place years later without directions.   We then moved to Northern Westchester, the land of driving, and I replaced his abilities with technology.   This has been somewhat helpful but it did not stop me from driving in circles for almost an hour the other day in search of Home Goods, nine miles from my house.   The annoying lady in my car’s GPS and the nice man from OnStar who routed directions into my vehicle were not enough to prevent this mishap.  Happily, I had the company of a wonderful friend and we did get a tour of at least four different towns.

You are probably wondering if I have ever owned a real map. Of course I have!   I just can’t read one.   My major in college was International Relations.   We studied the interactions between different nations with great depth.  As for finding these countries on a globe, I had a general sense on which continent they might be located, but that was it.  Whilst others are bogged down by the details when they travel, I just enjoy the company of the locals and the food.  Pyrenees? Alps? Andes?  Why does it matter?  They’re lovely to look at regardless of what they are called.

Speaking of maps, I found myself looking up the weather forecast last Saturday morning.   Despite seeing the snow outside my window, I had to convince myself that driving to Albany that morning was a bad idea.  I stared at the radar map for a while.  I gained no knowledge of the snow pattern for the day but I did marvel at how pretty the colors were on my new computer.

I must also admit that I am bit lacking in spatial ability. Think sixteen-foot Christmas tree and a twelve-foot ceiling.   Hmm…. or maybe all of the times I try to move furniture by myself and find myself stuck in a doorway.  Thank you, Danielle, for being able to take a door off its hinges so quickly.   At least my adventures always provide a giggle.

The one area where I refuse to accept any limitations is my new career as a “mompraneur.” Towards this end I am enlisting the help of other ‘mompraneurs” to help me achieve success in my chosen field of network marketing.  We will work together during February to create a platform that will help me accomplish three things: explode my own businesses, fuel my love of writing and support other women who find as much joy as I do in the work that I do.  

In the meantime, I hope you find ways to move through your own limitations and I bet you will find joy on the other side.

“See” you in March!

Sports Fandom….

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I happen to love sports, which is ironic, since I never actually played one as a kid.   Following family tradition, I am a rabid Yankees and Giants fan.   I was the team statistician for the Montclair High School football team so I really do understand the game.

I don’t root for the other NY teams. I refuse to bend on my hatred for the Eagles and my extreme dislike for the Patriots.   I am proof that sports fandom brings out the best and the worst in the human race.  

The two football games yesterday were absolute nail biters.   When the place kicker for the Ravens, Billy Cundiff, missed the field goal that would have tied the game against the Patriots, my heart sank for him.  Later Cundiff spoke to the press.  He told them that this was a kick he had done a thousand times and he would make no excuses for himself for missing this one.   A fellow player spoke next, and he was emphatic that a team wins and loses together and that what happened to Cundiff should not affect him past that moment, as life will continue to happen.    First humility, then kindness.   This is the stuff of role models.

The Giants game was another story.   There is nobody better than Eli Manning for being cool under pressure.  He found the hole again and again and despite throwing the ball a gazillion times in terrible weather conditions there was not one interception.  When the Giants recovered a fumble in OT I actually thought I might stop breathing.   We watch all of the big football games with our dear friends and next-door neighbors.  My kids are always embarrassed by my behavior and the words that stream out of my mouth.   Too bad, so sad.

The death of Joe Paterno bothered me on so many levels.   I will not take away from him the many accolades he helped his Penn State players earn over 42 years as head coach.   Players young and old came out yesterday to praise Paterno for changing, and in some cases, saving their young lives.  Our sons do not yet understand exactly what is the scandal that keeps being mentioned on ESPN.   They will ask me about it someday and I will tell them that this was not a case of covering up a player’s speeding ticket or fixing grades to keep a kid eligible for play.   Though Joe Paterno did not break any laws, as he reported what he heard to his superiors, he broke a moral code by not going the extra step to protect those children.  I will always believe that he died not from the lung cancer, but from a broken heart.

 I will spend the next two weeks washing Giants’ jerseys and keeping up with the daily commentary of our 12-year old Sportscenter mouthpiece.   I need to know when Bradshaw is going to run through the 5 hole and when Manning is going for a fake.    Will Weatherford be able to respond to a bad snap as well as he did last night?  

As I said at the beginning of this blog, sports fandom brings out the best and the worst of people.   Pending the outcome of the Super Bowl, you’ll know whether it is safe to say hi to me in the supermarket on the 6th.  Go Giants!!!!

The Annual Purge

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Last night I attended the first of a ten-week course entitled “Practical Philosophy” in Manhattan.  The instructor told us that the study of philosophy is meant to help us dust ourselves off in order to find our own place of inner happiness.

Now, I love dusting.  In fact, I love cleaning in general.   Every chance I get I clean out a closet, drawer or an entire room and I hold a competition with myself as to how much stuff I am able to purge.  It’s a great pick-me-up, as I always win.

Out of respect for the other people who live with me, I now announce when I am ready to begin the annual purge so that they can run and hide their belongings.   I understand that my husband is attached to the Coke bottle from the 1984 Hoyas Championship, but it still has the soda in it.  Gross.

Yet, where do I start to dust myself off, to purge the layers that hold me back from being my best self?

I will start working on my weight.  I’ve got the weekly exercise habit under my belt, so now I need to rework my eating habits.  (Spoiler alert – a sales pitch is coming next!)   Arbonne has launched a series of vegan, gluten-free products that help on the weight-loss front.  They are used in combination with a healthy diet and the system is proving very successful for many people.  It has taken me years, but I finally realize that I need to achieve optimal health, not a perfect body.

I will allow myself time to grieve.  I will grieve for the daughter who is thousands of miles away and I will grieve for my dear friend whose laughter I will not hear again.  Each sob, each burst of anger, will remove a bit of the pain until all that is left is acceptance. 

I will work without guilt and I will enjoy watching my businesses grow.   My family has shown me in so many ways that they are fine with the changes that my new pursuits have brought to our daily lives.  It’s just taken me a while to see it.

On the flip side, I will continue to stop what I am doing when one of the boys wants to play a game or our daughter needs me to read over a paper.  The chores and the work will be there when I am finished. The fleeting moments of the children’s’ youth will not.

Finally, I will count all of the many blessings that surround me and absorb the grace within the gratitude.

You know what is the best part of this personal dusting off?  If all goes according to plan, I will have enough energy and joy to conquer the final frontier in my quest for a perfectly clean house…. the garage!    

Glittery Bands of Gold….

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I imagine the bonds of friendship to be made of glittery bands of gold.   Each time an experience is shared with a good friend the bands grow brighter. Sometimes these bands burn so brightly that you can’t help but feel the warmth that connects your two hearts. 

Laughter is what I most often seek in the company of a friend.  Maybe it is a funny story about the children or husband, or a little bit of wicked gossip that bring the peals of glee out of us.     

Sometimes, though, the bonds of friendship sparkle and hiss and you know something is terribly wrong.  The blood test was supposed to be fine.  That scan was supposed to show nothing.   An operation? How long is the recovery? Will you be OK? 

As all of the helping hands came out to bring our friend comfort, it soothed me to see that real friendship still plays an important role in a world where relationships seem to so often be built in cyberspace.   

As our friend in need became the epicenter, the bonds we all held to her extended to each other.  New friendships were made and existing ones were strengthened.   There were more excuses to get together and within each visit, laughter and hope squelched the worry that tried to seep through.   Her family welcomed us with open arms and shared so many stories of how she became the wonderful woman we knew and loved. 

As the months passed, a sense of belief took hold, a conviction that her glorious smile and bright blue eyes would be here until we all grew old together.  She and I would often joke about the havoc we would cause in our nursing home together.   We needed to act like mature adults now, but later, why not bring back the antics of our youth?

We took her pain for granted, as she so seldom complained.  Thanksgiving happened without event, but a few days later a trip to the doctor turned into a five-week hospital stay.  As the days continued forward, those bands of gold, which bonded her to friends and family, were like rods of steel.  If we all held on with all of our might then maybe we would keep her here and get her home.

Three days before the end, our youngest came to the hospital to see her.  At the end of our visit, he asked her to thank her son for helping him get ready for his first wrestling match on Saturday.   As she beamed with pride for her own son, she threw her arms open, gave us that gorgeous smile and asked my son for a hug.  It was then I knew that she was really saying goodbye. 

Those bands of gold will always be there, but for now, they must extend from here to eternity.  There is no doubt that she is sitting at the other end of the rainbow, sending golden light and love to all she knew and loved.

Lisa Lupo Talia   December 17, 1966 – January 7, 2012

Happy 2012….

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We had a crazy, wonderful week at the Polemeni-Hegarty abode.  Things went along according to tradition.  Here are some highlights:

1.  I got so ill two days before Christmas that I had a to give last minute Christmas directives from my sick bed.  This happens every year as we moms manage to get ourselves so run down leading up to the holidays.  Luckily, I was able to self-diagnose my ailment and thus, self-medicate.   Yes, I recognize this is a dumb thing to do, but hey, I’m better.

2.  We managed to find all of the Italian delicacies necessary to create the Christmas Eve and Christmas Day meals and it only took trips to 12 different stores in two states.  Success!!

3.  Santa arrived on schedule and only one of the eight children started to cry that he did not get the one thing he absolutely wanted.  He is four and happily, his grandparents brought the required present a few days later.  More success!

4. The two cousins that don’t always get along perfectly did not have an altercation until yesterday.  It involved a direct hit to the face with a Nerf gun and an unbelievably terrific dramatic performance by the shooter when threatened by the victim.   It was pure entertainment for all!

5. There were 12-19 people staying and/or eating here for ten days.   Everyone managed to get fed and the boys even managed to shower on occasion.  Parenting at its finest!

6.  None of the kids got to sleep much before midnight on any given night.  Happily, there was enough sugar in the house to keep everyone happy and alert. Now we are in the running for parents of the year!

7.  Despite being together for the above-mentioned ten days, we adults were unable to finish one conversation, keeping alive a family tradition that started 18 years ago with the birth of the first grandchild.  We kept reminding ourselves that the holidays are indeed all about the children.

Tomorrow, everyone here will return to work and school. There will be some glum faces for sure.  As the last bus leaves, I will sigh and then, I will dance and sing all the way down the driveway!

Happy New Year!

“If You Don’t Believe, You Won’t Receive”……

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This is my third attempt to write my blog for this week.  I started with “Happy Holidays” which slowly morphed into “Harried Holidays.” It finally dawned on me that the phrase I use most often during this time of year is, “If you don’t believe, you won’t receive.” 

Granted, that phrase was originally used to make the older children understand that in this house, Santa is the one that brings presents, and there will never be talk to the contrary.   

This year the phrase has taken some different turns, making this Christmas season more meaningful to me than in many a year. 

There is a friend who is very dear to us sitting in a hospital room in New York City.  Despite the grim facts of her case, she continues to believe that she is meant to be with us for as long as possible.  The only way to receive a miracle is to believe and turn the miracle into reality. 

There are a legion of quiet angels who are trying to help my friend and her family find a little joy right now.  Seeing how they believe in the power of love, prayer and support is a gift received and shared by all.

I kept my word and worked on being present wherever I was this holiday season.  I was able to smile at those in the mall whose demeanor seemed to be equal parts joy and sorrow.  I smiled at the harried cashiers and the moms trying desperately to keep their children happy.  To the one, I received a smile back.

The reality of Christmas being six days away, though, has not found me sipping a cup of tea in quiet repose.  In fact, I am on my third Coke Zero of the day and I plan on running until December 24th when I screech across the finish line.   

On Christmas morning, I will sit back with a sigh of relief and watch the children, aged 4-18, open their presents with glee before we head off to church.   The festival of food will begin apace the minute we return home and laughter will fill the house all day.

Thus, no matter what you believe, may you receive the joy and warmth that this season is meant to bring.  

As for me, I hope Santa appreciates how good I make him look every year!