Mom, Irreplaceable; Popsicle, Priceless

The summer is here, and I’ve made a concerted effort to leave the office by 6 pm so that I am home for some outdoor fun with the kids- taking a walk, bike riding, etc. After just 3 days of this time together, the boys have been much more enjoyable to be around and much more attached to me – especially Carter, my 6-year-old.

So, the boys are getting ready to visit my in-laws for a long weekend and we are laying across my bed talking about the trip, and Carter says, “ I don’t want to go, I want to stay with Mommy. I want to play with Mommy, I want Mommy to go with us, I want…” and Jonathan says, “ I want a Popsicle!” Ah, a child’s unconditional love.

The next day I get to the office - stay with me, I need to set the scene- and I sit in my all-glass office just off of the elevator by a front desk supposedly manned by my “assistant” (anyone who knows me should be laughing by now). I am frequently on the floor by myself, so I ask that he always close the door when he leaves the floor.

OK, back to the story – I am on the phone with a colleague and I see that my assistant has walked away, the front door is open and a stranger is walking the floor from office to office…into my office. Yes, it is glass, I am on the phone and my door is closed. Well, this young man in a suit, 3 sizes too large, eyes askew, an obvious brain injury (he has a dent), and carrying a BIG dirty red backpack walks into my office and announces loudly, “I am here for the interview!” Then takes the BIG backpack from his shoulder and pulls out a chair and sits down. (What is in that bag?). Just as he launches into his ‘interview for an unknown company at this address’ (I asked) my phone caller tells me that she has to go. I am thinking NO, NO! You can’t get off of the phone; there is a potential killer in my office. I need a witness in case something happens to me, and something might because I am not conducting interviews. Instead of saying that and alerting the PK (potential killer) of my fear, I franticly try to keep her from hanging up, yet maintaining a smile for the PK. “No, you don’t need to go. Didn’t you say there were 10 things you needed to discuss – we’ve only covered one.” To this, she says, “no I’m good, thanks for your help, need to go through security” In desperation, I say “ Priscilla needs us to discuss her presentation” (this is a ridiculous statement because Priscilla died in 2003), so I’m hoping that she picks up on it and will ask to call for help or at least stay on the phone. No luck – “I’ll call you when I land” Click. Think fast – he’s still here! All I can think is I’ve finally gotten to a place of almost work/family balance and this crazy PK has walked into my office! That’s perfect – of all of the offices in this busy city how in the hell did he find mine? Why? What will happen to my boys if he starts shooting? Mom, irreplaceable.

I snap back to reality, the BIG backpack still on the floor and he starts his “interview” with “My reading, writing and math are basic but I want you to show me how to be an administrative assistant. (What is in that damned bag?). I want to make between $30,000 and $50,000.” My assistant finally comes back and I introduce the candidate, then I call HR to ask if they actually put the office address on the job posting. Based on their answer, I tell my assistant to give the candidate HR’s contact information for follow up.

As I reflected on the day this encounter made me terribly sad – as bold as we think we are, the reality is that the world is a dangerous place and we can’t take anything or anyone for granted. There are so many people who need work but who aren’t willing to put themselves out there, yet this young man who, with all of his issues, was not only willing to put himself out there he knew exactly what he wanted. And it was definitely, not a Popsicle!

I get home and I’m exhausted- doesn’t matter to anyone but me because Carter and Jonathan are waiting for me to go bike riding. As we turn the corner on our neighborhood one-mile bike ride, I realize what I want… A Popsicle!

Is this the End?

So its 8:33 pm Saturday night, May 21^st – we are still here. Were you worried? I wasn’t – God gives us every day and when he decides it is our time, well, then we have to accept that. Evidently, there are more people who were worried than not. I went to Short Hills Mall and it was relatively empty. The word on the street was that people stayed home in preparation for the end of the world. There is no spice equivalent for this level of fear and lack of faith.

I am in the den with the boys watching High School Musical 3; Marc is in the office watching the Mets play the Yankees. If we don’t wake up tomorrow, we are together and we love each other.

The Real Housewives, Art and Show

The Real Housewives of NY are having a serious discussion about how hard it is to be “stuck” in the Hamptons with the kids without their significant others. How about being “stuck” in the South Bronx… sorry, I have been distracted by the TV.

Uh-oh another distraction, hearing little footsteps sneaking into the room (he doesn’t think I can hear him). Wait for it… Marc bellows, “Go to bed!!!” Little footsteps head in the opposite direction. Is he going back to bed? Nope, he thinks he’s tricking us – instead of coming directly into the den he sneaks in thru the living room and from behind the couch we hear, “Mom and dad, I can’t sleep.” “Just go to your room and rest until you fall asleep.” “But I don’t want to rest… I don’t want to sle(yawn)ep.” And sleeping he is... on Mommy’s chest.

Now, for art and show. Tonight was the elementary school’s annual art show and spring musical concert. It was very well attended, and hot. Yes, hot – lots of kids and parents, no air conditioning. I owe a major shout out and ode of appreciation to Marion and Robert (my parents, God rest their souls) who never missed a school concert, never missed an opportunity to clap loudly and give big hugs and encouraging words after pitchy, long and hot seasonal concerts. Luckily I have a 3^rd grader and kindergartner (chorus/orchestra doesn’t starts until 4^th grade) – I enjoyed the art show and listened to the concert from outside. So you ask, why did you stay after viewing the art? I stayed because I volunteered to co-chair the event, and since I work ridiculous hours and often don’t even know if I will be home at night, co-chairing meant making tent cards for 30 minutes on Monday and clean up on Thursday night.

Key ingredients for sanity –

· Embrace the term “co”, there is no super in Job-Having Entrepreneurial Mom Wife – you can’t do it by yourself.

· 5 minutes or 5 days a week – the kids appreciate your effort to be a part of their lives (though they probably won’t say it until they are 30)

· Pitchy is a key

Rain, Boots and Janice Huff

Rain, rain go away! Rain in the City brings out rain boots.

As I sat in Aureole waiting for my glass of chardonnay and waiting to catch up with a friend I haven’t seen in almost two years, I watched all of the workday weary New Yorkers hustle through the bustle to get home; to get drinks with friends; to get to their match.com dates and I couldn’t shake the thought of salt. Yes – salt.

Most of the women walking on 42^nd St were wearing rain boots (as was I, more about that later), a ubiquitous commodity – much like salt. Just as there are different classes of salt, there are different classes of rain boots. The Hunter Wellie is the choice for fashionistas and utilitarians - much like Kosher salt, the choice of savvy cooks (fashionistas of the kitchen) because its coarse texture is easier to pinch when seasoning savory dishes, and its taste lasts longer when cooking. Colorful, patterned non-branded rain boots, while creative and stylish, are the table salt - common but add flavor, just the same. And of course I must mention the Burberry, Coach and Gucci rain boots – more like the gourmet black and pink salts.

I love fine things, especially apparel and accessories, and I absolutely love delicious well seasoned food – I’m partial to Brazilian rock salt (another story for another time)- but when it comes to my $20 silver zebra rain boots, I am more of the table salt variety. Why pay $200 or more for something that will just get rained on? Weigh in…

On a separate note – is anyone watching NBC NY news? Speaking of rain, Janice Huff. What’s up with the necklace, bracelet and belt? My advice. . . load on the accessories and always take one off before you walk out the door. . . or onto camera. BTW, the orange is a nice color.

Spicefully yours,

Kimberly

I Promise

It’s been forever since this Job-Having Entrepreneurial Mom Wife has seen you.

Where to start? My Spiceteria baby has been in hibernation for far too long. I continue to share my family secrets but via text or the very occasional telephone conversation. Basically, the secrets never leave my “test kitchen” aka children’s homework room, aka bill writing station, aka place that my family uses to breed additional clutter and drive me crazy, which I detest (a windy but spot on accurate description).

The barrage of job requirements and constant travel continue unabated; and of course, kids care less than a little about these competing demands- but should they? Really? How do I manage to do it all, you ask? I don’t.

I manage these demands (and my sanity, some-what) and keep enough done to get by. Anything else is unrealistic - and I am finally OK with that. Oprah and Martha aside, I’m quite satisfied with the results. But is it my “Best Life Ever”? I often drift off into my techno-color vision of being the Chief Creative Officer for a fabulous fashion company that I share ownership in; lunching with Gayle King (yes, Gayle – she’s fabulous!); taping my lifestyle makeover show and being home by 6:00 to review homework, talk to the boys, attend PTA events and spend romantic evenings with my husband; complimented by intellectually and fun filled times with my closest girlfriends.

What? Carter is missing…Jonathan, how did you lose your brother? I told you to stay in the backyard! Back to reality.

SO even though I am finally OK with keeping enough done to get by I never stop thinking about my ideas. . .

Good to be back – more to come soon. I promise!

Yours in spice,

Kimberly