Chicago Moms Blog

Celebrity Passings Mark the Times of My Life

Elvis Presley, the King of Rock and Roll, died in 1977. I was a teenager at the time and his passing meant little to me. I had really only known the fat, drug-addicted, somewhat pathetic Elvis. Sure, I liked his music, but he was old (six years younger than I am now, yikes!)

In 1977, Michael Jackson, the King of Pop, was still flying high with his brothers, then known as the Jacksons, performing live at the Fourth Annual American Music Awards. He was about to launch his giant solo career. Everyone knew that Michael Jackson was way cooler than Donny Osmond, but not as cool as Led Zeppelin. Still, you never had to be embarrassed if you were caught dancing to a Jackson 5 record.

In 1977, Farrah Fawcett (then Farrah Fawcett-Majors) posed for her iconic poster, clad in nothing but a red bathing suit, big hair and an even bigger smile. Every boy of my generation hung that poster on his closet door or over his bed, and every girl spent hours in front of the mirror trying to get that hair. 

In 1977, Ed McMahon was firmly ensconced as Johnny Carson's second banana on the Tonight Show. I wouldn't say I was a McMahon fan, or even a regular watcher of the Tonight Show. It's just that Ed and Johnny and Doc had always been there, my whole life, on NBC at 11:30, right after the news. It was a fact, something you could count on.

What the World Needs Now

The Modern Wing of the Art Institute

Art lifts us. Gives us hope. Makes sense of our past and instills a belief that there is something beautiful for all of us to create here.

Overjoyed to attend the sneak preview for the media yesterday at the Modern Wing of the Art Institute, I had some beautifully landscaped quiet moments to reflect on my life long love of art. It all started with my mother's narrative as we walked down the hushed halls of the Art Institute when I was a small child.

Holding my hand tight she told passionate stories about when she first fell in love with Degas and his ballet dancers or how she feels when she sees the brushstrokes of a Renoir. She begged for my opinion encouraging me to open up and share my interpretation of what I saw (even when it conflicted with her own). This bubbling excitement spilled over on me like a flood of possibility and again and again I was swept away when I entered the museum. The truth is, I still feel it every time I walk in. 

Now with my own children, I find myself reflecting on the genius of my parent's philosophy. Despite living meagerly as small business owners, they never forgot to engage in the beauty of this world. They made it a point to take us to the ballet, to the opera, to the museums and to more simple places like state parks and historical destinations. Almost like a ritual or better yet, an escape so that my sister and I knew that there was more to living.

So Susan Boyle got a makeover...

I am definitely at a point in my life where I would jump at the chance to get a makeover.  Even though we've been living in Chicago almost two years, I have yet to find a hairdresser I like (and whom I can afford).  This means I have gone almost a year without a cut and color.  Let's just say that I'm not ready to go on national television or be sent into homes worldwide on a viral video.  I think people might have more than a few comments to make about my need for help in the looks department.

I have mixed feelings about Ms. Boyle's makeover.  Like I said, I would jump at the chance to get some clothing and makeup advice and a new hairdo.  Maybe she had never thought herself worthy of such a treat, and her success with "Britain's Got Talent" gave her the confidence she needed to treat herself.  Even though she told reporters she is happy with herself the way she is (short and plump), she seems quite pleased with her new look in the pictures I've seen.  If this truly is the case, I say good for her.  The publicists and reporters who think that she may be hurting her likability ratings should just mind their own business, and let her do what most women everywhere love to do.  If her new hairdo and "smart" clothes make her feel even more comfortable in her own skin, then I couldn't be happier for her.

Gift Giving 101

There are two kinds of people in the world: those who are good at gift giving and those who aren't. In fact, there are two other kinds of people in the world: those who are good at receiving gifts and those who aren't.

Gift giving and gift receiving are both subtle arts, as evidenced by the recent brouhaha over the gifts exchanged by President Obama and British Prime Minister Gordon Brown. Seems the 25 DVDs of American film classics that Obama presented to Mr. Brown did not quite compare to the ornamental pen holder made from timbers of the HMS Resolute, the sister to the ship that yielded the wood for the President's desk in the oval office. Oh, yeah, and a framed commission of the of the HMS Resolute. And a first edition of the seven-volume biography of Churchill by Sir Martin Gilbert. We won't even get into the kids gifts.

If it is truly the thought that counts, it doesn't seem to me that a lot of thought went into the DVDs. As British columnist Iain Martin told NPR's Robert Siegel, "We do have television and DVDs over here." 

Little Kids, Big Problems

Until just a week ago, all my parenting experience as a mom and stepmom of six children (ranging in age from 29 to 10) has borne out the underlying truth of the old adage: "Little kids, little problems; big kids, big problems." Now I know that the problems of our little kids are big and getting bigger every day.

This week, our community was rocked by the news of the tragic loss of a fifth grade boy, who was found unresponsive in the bathroom at his public school and who later died, apparently of self-inflicted injuries. I cannot begin to comprehend the devastation the family* of this child is feeling and my heart breaks as they struggle with their pain and dispute even the possibility that he could have taken his own life.

While we do not know this family personally, the loss has had a profound effect on our family, particularly my own fifth grader, as it comes on the heels of a traumatic week for him. A week ago, he experienced his first encounter with verbal and physical bullying. The details are unimportant, but a few facts are worth mentioning. Though he felt threatened for several hours during the school day, my son never went to an adult for help. Though a number of other students in the fifth grade knew of the threats, they never went to an adult for help, either. When I asked my son why he didn't go to an adult, he said he was just scared. He was so scared, in fact, that he ran into the street without looking and was almost hit by a car.

Truth is Stranger than Fiction

Turns out the 33-year-old California mother of octuplets already has six children under 8 at home. Home, by the way, is her parents' house. She doesn't have a husband--or even a father for her enormous brood, all of whom were reportedly conceived via a sperm donor.

Just when I think the news can't get any weirder, it does. Rich people from New York to Miami lose their fortunes in a Ponzi scheme. Illinois finally punishes a corrupt politician, impeaching Rod Blagojevich. Chicago's cold winter weather is really, really cold.

But seriously, where does a unmarried, unpartnered mother of six (including 2-year-old twins) get off signing up for fertility treatments? If she loves being pregnant so much, perhaps she should have signed up to be a surrogate. At least she'd net 20 grand and plenty of warm fuzzies for loaning out her womb.

Oh Rod, Why Did You Have To Do This?

Nothing kills new-found optimism and faith in politics like waking up to the news that your Governor has been dragged out of his house in handcuffs by the feds.

For the past month, I have been riding high on Obama's victory and all of the promise that it holds.  I'll admit it -- I really believed in "Yes we can."  I watched with pride as Obama delivered his election night speech to the hometown masses assembled in Grant Park.  I felt giddy excitement over his competent and efficient transition team.  I have been following the speculation over which local power players will be moving to D.C. as part of Obama's administration.  It seemed to me that promises of change were in the process of becoming, well, actual change.  And I felt proud that this was all taking place right here in Chicago.

A Question of Recession

News agencies around the world reported Monday that the U.S. economy is officially in recession. Actually, they reported that the National Bureau of Economic Research finally admitted that we've been in recession since December 2007. Duh. Why on earth it took a year to reach this dazzling conclusion is beyond me.

When I say "we've" been in recession for a year, I mean the country at large. My personal "we" — our family — has been in a downward-spiraling recession for years. As small business owners, we've been slammed with everything you've been reading about in the news: outrageous healthcare premiums, ever-climbing energy costs (and all that implies), and a contracting credit market that feels more like a noose than a belt tightening.

Rumor has it that I've used up my complaining quotient, so I'm not complaining — really I'm not. Like everyone else, I'm just trying to figure things out. If we and other families have felt under the financial gun for years, what does "official" recession mean for our immediate and long-term futures?

Here's what I know:

A City Torn, a Family Frightened

As gunmen took hostages and killed almost 90 people in Mumbai, India I watched in horror like the rest of the country. They targeted luxury hotels, train stations, and a hospital. What I write here can certainly not do justice for what the news-stations are covering on Prime-Time nor can my words even begin to describe the images seen on the Internet.

What I can do is tell you how scared my family is right now. You see, my brother and his wife are stationed in Mumbai with the Consulate/State Department.

Babywearers Vs. Motrin 2008

I don't even know how it started- I was out with some friends at a Womanless Beauty Pageant and having a grand ol' time when some of us checked Twitter on our iPhones. And there was a whole lot of madness about babywearing and Motrin going on.

What?

Apparently someone came across a new commercial on Motrin.com that was a bit condescending toward Moms who wear their babies.

I get it- I totally know that Motrin is for pain and they had a great target market with Moms carrying their babies all day and the back pain that supposedly goes with it. But, as an experienced babywearer (heck, my blog is called Adventures In Babywearing!) I will admit I felt the ad was a bit off base and misleading.

And to be honest- the "official Mom" in me feels like saying, "Motrin, don't you take that tone with me!"

Wearing your baby is a great thing and it does promote bonding. However, if you do not wear your baby, it does not mean you aren't an "official Mom." It does not mean you are doing something wrong.

But, if your back is killing you to the point you are suffering just so you can wear your baby... then you are doing something wrong!