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Disney's New Fantasyland. Ariel's Grotto

My last trip to Disney. Also without the kids!

Tomorrow morning, I leave for the Disney Social Media Moms conference.  A coveted ticket that I was honored, this year, to receive.

I could thank Disney for inviting me and my family to what promises to be a fantabulous weekend of conference, park, and perks.  I could thank them for the suitcase from American Tourister that I will never, ever NOT spy on the luggage carousel.  I could thank them for the sneak preview of Monsters Inc that I’ll be seeing on Saturday.  Or the room at the Contemporary Resort.  And I do thank them for all that.

But what I really want to thank them for, is letting me skip Mother’s Day.

I looked back over my Mother’s Day posts from years gone by.  There was Can I Have Mother’s Day Off?, and Mother’s Day: Thank God it’s Over.  And this year, over on the Mothers2Mothers Network, Hate Mothers Day? You’re Not Alone.

See a pattern here?

So that’s why I’m especially happy that this year, the Disney Social Media Moms conference (#DisneySMMoms to those in the know) is being held Mother’s Day weekend.  See, my kids decided not to join me at the conference.  (I know. Clearly they are insane) So I will be at the conference with my sister in law and niece.  (I am now solidified as The Favorite Aunt forever.) Which means that I get to skip Mother’s Day.

No faux sentiment.  No disappointment when it isn’t quite as special as I’d hoped.  No frustration when the kids whine because, well, they’re kids, no matter what day it is.  No Mother’s Day.

Plus, when I get home, it’ll still be – technically – Mother’s Day (well, Mother’s Night).  And since I’ll have been gone for four days, my kids will be excited to see me, and will greet me with hugs and genuine happiness to see me.

And that’s really all I ever wanted for Mother’s Day anyway.

 


It's not all concrete and traffic cones.  Take a look - A week of snapshots in Riverside Park, NYC.

It’s not all concrete and traffic cones. Take a look – A week of snapshots in Riverside Park, NYC.


In the real world, there’s a common understand that within communities, we look after eachother’s kids. We help them if we see them in a jam.  We tattle when we see them doing something really dangerous — or just plain intervene.   But in the digital world…it’s a little less -.  Or is it?

Check out my very first piece on Mashable about Digital Tattletales, and why you should be one.

 


kiss_cutout My children became B’nai Mitzvah this weekend.  It was a wonderful event.  So happy and filled with family and friends.  And I was so proud of my kids.  Qvelling, as my people say. A lot of people have already asked for a copy of the speech I gave to my kids.  So here it is.  Enjoy.

♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦

When you guys were in second grade or so, Dad and I took you with us to our ballroom dancing class for your own lesson.  They taught you the Rhumba.  You were only kind of sort of into it.  But after a few bits of instruction, and maybe a few missteps – you were good at it.  And I remember thinking as I stood there, “is there anything more heartbreakingly sweet than watching your son and daughter dance the Rhumba?”

Well, having watched the two of you up here today – the answer is a resounding yes. Continue Reading »


That, at least, was what I thought to myself, as I sat in a sun-drenched, pristine white, spa-tastically scented midtown loft-space that was doing a turn as Canyon Ranch for the Day.

I don’t think I’m good enough for Canyon Ranch.

Why else would I  – I who agonize about my weight, and my wrinkles, and my everything else – never have treated myself to so much as a weekday overnight stay at what is arguably the premiere spa in the country?

Why else would I – I who has gone on an African Safari, a jaunt through Barcelona, a relaxing sojourn on St. John, and a nostalgic week in Paris all in the past three years — never have been willing to pay the admittedly high price of admission to a place that may have helped me in my never-ending quest to lose those last ten pounds?

It occurred to me, while, in the middle of a work day, I was in downward dog, eyeing the neatly lined up water glasses, all perfectly filled to the exact same invisible line, that I had had no problem going on all of those other trips because they were for the family.  Or they were about enrichment, broadening horizons.

They were not about taking care of me.

Now I’m not going to pretend that I’m some kind of self-depriver.  Far from it.  I pay for ridiculously over-priced spin classes; I shop at chic boutiques, I pay a not so small fortune to maintain my hair.

But a trip to Canyon Ranch?  That seems too self-indulgent.   I can say that the spin classes are local, and necessary because they are quick workout that lets me get right back to work.  I can say that I need the clothing and fancy hair cut to look my best to compete in business as a middle-aged woman in a young-person’s high-tech world.

But a trip to Canyon Ranch?  That would be just for me.

Oh, the horror.

It is, of course, partly expense.  A pair of shoes or a haircut is one thing.  A multi-thousand dollar weekend is quite another.  (And, truth be told, it is cost prohibitive)But even without the price tag – I know myself, and I know I wouldn’t do it.

The other day,  at the Canyon Ranch event, I had a mini hand treatment with the all-natural, preservative free, totally luxurious Red Flower products they feature at the Spa at Canyon Ranch.  Just those five minutes made me feel relaxed and refreshed.

I had the Canyon Ranch foot health team evaluate my stride and offer exercises to help my aching feet.

I ate a delicious sea food salad that was healthy and delicious, and not even the teeniest bit guilt inducing.  If I liked chocolate, I would have tried the healthy chocolate cake desert, too.

I even went up to the roof and made fire with two sticks and some twine-y stuff. (Well, I made smoke, a coal, and more smoke.  Evidently, where’s there’s smoke, there isn’t necessarily fire.)

Exercise, Indulgence, health, relaxation, survival skills.  Come to think of it, they’re all survival skills.

So why don’t I think I should have that?  Of course I’m not really talking about Canyon Ranch.  I’m talking about taking the time for me.  Whether that means actually making the time for Yoga, which I know makes me feel great, but for which I can never seem to spare the 90 minutes, or turning off the computer a few nights a week and knitting instead (which makes me feel skilled and creative), or forgoing an expensive hair cut or pair of shoes to spend a day or two at a fabulous spa, doing something that is – plain and simple – just for me.

Maybe it’s time  – whether we go or not – we all started taking the time for ourselves.  All of us women, worrying about work and kids, and partners, and parents, and last of all, ourselves.

Maybe it’s time we all went to that Metaphorical Canyon Ranch.  Took care of ourselves, valued ourselves, and indulged.


This white awareness ribbon is worn to raise consciousness of violence against women.

This white awareness ribbon is worn to raise consciousness of violence against women.

That social media and sex are intertwined is no surprise. What is surprising is how social media has become a weapon in sexual assaults of kids, tweens, and teens.
In Steubenville, Ohio, and in Torrington CT, and who knows how many other unreported places, social media is being used both during and after sexual assaults in shocking and disturbing ways.
In Stuebenville, the rapists (they’ve been convicted. I see no reason to mince words),not only committed the crime, but were so proud of it they shared it on their social media networks. The crime itself was horrific enough,but the fact that these rapists were so sure that what they were doing was perfectly acceptable behavior that posting it to Instagram seemed neither callous nor repugnant adds to that horror.  How did we get to the point where 17 year old students are so morally bereft that sexually assaulting an unconscious girl seems appropriate fodder for sharing with friends? Continue Reading »


Image representing Sheryl Sandberg as depicted...

Image via CrunchBase

Sheryl Sandberg wants us to Lean In. Marissa Meyer wants us to come in (to the office, that is.). New York Magazine wants to reignite the Mommy Wars by re-branding them as being between those who lean out and those who lean in.

But the truth is, the distinction between leaning out or in, working in the home, from the home, at an office, virtually or not at all…it’s all moot. There is a whole new category of working woman: the digital housewife. Continue Reading »

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