Silicon Valley Moms Blog

Half-Pint Travelers

We approach the stack of bins and both girls promptly drop to the ground, grappling with their shoes. I no longer have to tell them what to do. Two little pairs of shoes plunk into the gray plastic tray and they're shrugging off their jackets.

Moments later they are standing in front of the metal detector, waiting to be waived through by the TSA agent who is beaming at them, delighted for once to be facing adorable half-pints thrilled to be there instead of impatient business travelers just bored with the whole process.

"This is my favorite part!" My five-year-old says to me, eyes bright with excitement.

"What? Coming to the airport?" I ask, assuming that she's talking about the overall trip.

All I want for Mother's Day is a Will and a Trust for my Kids

Do you know what will happen to your kids should something happen to you or your significant other? Sure, right? You know that your sister-brother-cousin-mother will take them in. Odds are you might even have that written down somewhere.

But what happens if today you have an accident? Say, while you’re on a date and the kids are at home with a sitter. Who is she going to tell the police to contact when they come knocking on the door? Will she know?

If you’re anything like me she won’t know. We used to have a very detailed emergency contact sheet on the fridge. Last I looked not only are three quarters of those numbers no longer valid, but most of the people on the list no longer live in the state and the other half are no longer our friends. The only number that’s still valid is for my in-laws and they’re out of town traveling more often than they’re home.

Are celebrities lonely too?

A month or so ago I ran into a friend in a parking lot. I was shocked when she rushed over to give me a hug. The last 5 emails and text messages I had sent her had gone unanswered and I was convinced I had committed some egregious act that had caused her to stop speaking to me.

Turns out I was wrong.

"Oh! I read your blog! I'm so glad you found a Kindergarten for next year!"

Her comment left me at a loss for words. What do you say to that? "Hey, wow. Thanks, how about you? What have you been doing for the last six months? How come you never call, email, or send smoke signals?"

A week later I ran into a friend who was a eight and a half months into a pregnancy I didn't know about. She, however, knew about a cute conversation I had in the car with the kids the week before.

It finally dawned on me as I left that second awkward conversation that my friends aren't shunning me because they don't like me, in fact they're not shunning me at all. They're keeping up with me via my blog.

The toys aren't what make our kids fat

A few weeks ago Santa Clara County Supervisor Ken Yeager asked county officials to consider a ban on fast food toys. That's right, no more plastic toys in Happy Meals.

His goal? "Hold the fast-food chains responsible."

Now, I'm sorry, and I'm speaking just for my family, but the toys in the Happy Meals aren't the main draw for us when we go to McDonald's. For the grown-ups it's the convenience of once in a while not having to cook or clean up and for the kids it seems to just be the treat of getting to go out with mommy and daddy and having their full attention.

More often than not the toys lie abandoned in the car minutes after having been opened.

I'm glad Supervisor Yeager is concerned about the obesity crisis. I'm glad he wants to do something to get the ball rolling on finding a solution.

But frankly I think he's blaming the wrong people and focusing on the wrong solution.

Borrones: My love hate relationship with a local landmark

Ever since I moved to the Bay Area (October 2001 if you must know.) I've dreaded the sound of one sentence.

"Hey! I know! Let's meet at Borrones!"

Why? I would think. Why, would I want to meet there? It's in the middle of a nearly inaccessible town, mired in a sea of traffic. There's no wifi, which cripples every work meeting. And they don't serve anything good for breakfast.

I'm sorry. In my book breakfast has to equal either french toast, pancakes, oatmeal, or at the very least, great rolls. Not eggs. Ugh.

But of course I've always said all that in my head. Because Borrones (Much like Keplers, which I'm not a fan of either, but that's a whole other topic for which I'll be lynched on another day...) is a beloved local institution. Everyone looooooves Borrones. It's just what you do.

Picking a Kindergarten - Between Apples and Orangutans

The first school is lovely. Flower borders lovingly tended by little hands frame the rundown building. Children's artwork graces the peeling walls. Students race past us to bring attendance sheets to the office; their gleeful hellos to the parent representative ring with genuine affection and joy.

It's not a fancy place, but it's a happy place.

The kids in the classrooms are engaged, working hard with the room parents and the teacher. The books look well loved and very well used. As does every thing else stuffed into the cramped quarters.

Saving the Bresma Orphans of Haiti

In the middle of the chaos in Haiti sits an orphanage. It houses 150 children and is run by two young American girls from Pittsburgh. 30 of those children are in the process of being adopted by American families; before the earthquake they were waiting for their paperwork to be processed, but now they're waiting for a miracle.

The two sisters running the orphanage have a sister and some amazing friends who have been doing everything in their power to get these kids to safety.

They need water. They need food. They need diapers and formula. But more importantly they need to get out of Haiti.

Eliminating Stress

There it was on the list of things my doctor was suggesting I eliminate to help treat both my rash and my migraines. Stress. Eliminate stress. Well, it also said to eliminate noise and commotion, but short of selling my kids on eBay, which one nice lady in Germany last year showed us is actually quite illegal, those would be a bit harder.

Stress though, that might be possible.

Turns out that working 5 different jobs can be harmful to the system. Who knew?

I took a good look at my day to day schedule and my to do list and for once, instead of putting my brain into work mode I put it into review mode. Which of the things on this list were making my pulse race? Which of them made me skip to the next item quickly? In short, what was causing the most stress?

All I want for Christmas is... time.

I can feel it coming. The email. The one that comes every year a week or so before Christmas, sometimes earlier.

"What do you want for Christmas this year?"

It'll come from one sister, the other will be CCd, and I'll let it sit there for a moment before I click Reply All.

In the past my reply would have been filled with a variety of things that could easily be found online or in stores. This year though, I think my sisters might have a bit more trouble with my list.

Here's what I want for Christmas.

The h1n1 Vaccine Frenzy - It would be funny if it weren't so scary

It's all anyone talks about.

"Did your kids get the shot? Where did you get it? Do they have more?"

"Are your kids high risk? Mine aren't, but I'm going to lie."

"Who's going to the county clinics?"

If you spot a group of moms huddled together outside school or daycare you can bet that's what they're discussing. That or the results of So You Think You Can Dance, but really, Swine is getting more air time than even the best reality shows out there these days.

Which is what makes this almost funny.