Commissioned by H&R Block for reasons I can’t really fathom (maybe they think we’re all making the big bucks blogging and they wanted to let us know they care/want our business?), the Infographic – bright pink (strike one), featured a white, blond woman in a frilly apron, (strike 2), and defined anyone who has even READ a blog as a Mommy Blogger (you’re out!). One of the very first comments, by Dresden Plaid, points out one of these problems right away:

Could you have used a more offensive/obnoxious graphic to “illustrate” a Mommy Blogger? Blonde, white, in pink and an apron? …. these women are writers. The term “Mommy Blogger” is jaw droppingly backwards. These are women, who are mothers, who write, and sometimes they write about being a Mother. Packaging it in pink fluff is just a bummer.

The comment immediately following pretty much exemplifies the problem.  And of course, it was written by RJ Silva, a man, at least judging by his avatar:

You seem to be missing the point, here. A mommy blogger, by definition, writes exactly about that: being a mom. Otherwise she wouldn’t be considered a “mommy” blogger but just a regular, sports, finance or tech blogger….

Ah, if only that were so, RJ.  The fact is, brands pitch women bloggers – regardless what they write about – as Moms.  I know one blogger, a single woman without children, who is routinely pitched as a Mom Blogger.  By virtue of the fact that we are women, regardless of whether or not we have borne children, or write about them, we are called Mommy Bloggers.    Even Silva’s use of the word “regular” in his comment speaks volumes.  A Mommy Blogger isn’t “regular?”

And then there’s that moniker – Mommy Blogger.  In the comments on Mashable a lot of people wondered – why should it be offensive? – we are, after all, Mothers.  True, in and of itself, Mommy is not a derogatory term.  But intent counts. Mommy is a word reserved for only one relationship: mother and child.  To use it in a business relationship is to imply an intimacy that is presumptuous, and, I believe, calculated to condescend. You are a Mommy, it says,  and Mommies have never been duly compensated for doing the work they do – raising a family, keeping a home.  Using that phrase excuses companies from thinking they have to compensate us for our work.  Mommies’ work has always been undervalued.  Why should Mommy Bloggers’ work be any different?

So yes, I am a mother, but the only people who get to call me Mommy popped out of my womb.

And what about Dad or Daddy bloggers? It isn’t quite the same.  Dads are men.  And as such, automatically wield more power in the world.  Unfortunate, but true.  Calling someone a Dad blogger isn’t derogatory.  The word Dad – even Daddy – doesn’t have the same connotation. Quite the contrary – men who are devoted fathers, who take part in the minutiae of their children’s lives aren’t just Dads, they’re heroes.  It’s like I always say, when I make the bed – I made the bed.  When my husband makes the bed, it’s a national holiday.

Karen Wilson, also in the comments, made this point:

For those who insist on calling bloggers who happen to be moms “mommy bloggers”, would you call Meg Whitman a “Mommy CEO” and get away with it or Sheryl Sandberg a “Mommy COO”? Absolutely not. There is a level of respect…that isn’t afforded to bloggers who are mothers ….

These women are life or lifestyle bloggers if you have to categorize them. Why should they be in a different category than someone without children who is also writing about their life?

Wilson doesn’t even mention men.  Think about it, did anyone ever call Dave Barry a Daddy Columnist?  He wrote about his life and his kids. Or me, I earned a living for nearly two decades writing and producing for television – much of it at Lifetime and Nickelodeon, where (no surprise) I wrote a lot about women, moms, and kids. Never in all my 17 years on the job did I ever hear a woman called a Mommy Writer/Producer.

So there goes your “the topic makes you a Mommy Blogger” argument.

This whole thing got me thinking about historical perspective. While there were women journalists as early as 1746 (well, at least one – a widow who inherited a newspaper), and there were a few women in history who made their mark in US Journalism (though I challenge you to find one – other than Nellie Bly – who is even close to a household name), until fairly recently, women who wanted to write were consigned to the Society Pages, or the Gardening, Household Hints, and Gossip columns. These women weren’t called reporters, or even columnists.  They were people who wrote the society pages.  Or people who wrote about gardening.  I somehow doubt that men covering crime or international affairs were called anything other than what they were: columnists, reporters, journalists.

What women lifestyle bloggers face today isn’t, sadly, all that different.  By virtue of our sex – and by virtue of having had pro-creative sex – we are Mommy Bloggers.  Not writers.  Not even “regular” bloggers.  Are there Mom Bloggers – women who choose to write about babies, family, and parenting?  Yes.  They earned the title much in the same way Parenting Experts earned theirs. But why should all women bloggers be defined exclusively by our parenthood any more than men are defined exclusively by theirs?

What galls me is that the stats prove we don’t deserve the condescension.  According to the infographic (and these are the facts I hope they got right, since I assume they got from somewhere else), Mom Bloggers (I simply cannot type the phrase Mommy Blogger any longer) are 52% more likely to have College Degrees than non-bloggers, and earn, on average, $14,000 more than their non-blogging counterparts.

We’re not so easy to dismiss now, are we?

We are writers, we are bloggers, we are business owners, website owners, entrepreneurs. In some cases, we blog for fun.  In some cases, we blog for a cause.  And in some cases, we blog to help support our families, generating real income.  In all cases, we will not be labeled.

So here’s a bit of advice, brands, (and Mashable) unless I birthed you or raised you, don’t call me Mommy.

A Long Ago Mothers Day

As I write this, Mothers’  Day (Mothers? Mother’s? I never know) is, thankfully, almost over. I hate Mothers’ Day.

It’s not that I don’t think mothers matter or  that I don’t like being given breakfast in bed, or beautiful gifts (Missoni from Loehmann’s!), or handmade cards that really mean something.  I like all of that. It’s not that I don’t appreciate my own mother. Hey, my mother went back to grad school in her early 50′s, got a Masters in Fine Arts, and has since written four books, two libretti, and won two major literary prizes…one of them a Guggenheim. And she still rocks a creative, hip look. I appreciate her plenty.

My daughter pointed out that I shouldn’t mind Mothers Day – after all, she said, it doesn’t mean you’re getting older.  True. And yet I still hate Mothers’ Day. Let me count the ways:

1. When your child whines on a normal day, it’s annoying.  When she whines on Mothers’ Day, it’s a personal affront.

2. This year, people spent $18.6 billion on Mother’s Day. That’s kind of horrifying.  I mean, it’s great for the florists, and bakers and card shops.  Bully for them. But $18.6 billion? That’s more than the gross national product of lots of small (and not so small) countries.  That money could change public education as we know it. Feed the hungry. Clothe people. Provide health care for thousands upon thousands.  Instead it was spent on greeting cards? Ugh.

3. The dog does not know it’s Mothers’ Day.  Today, he had a particularly barky day.  Which was annoying. It’s supposed to be my special day. He is not supposed to bark all day at nothing.

4. There is too much emphasis on EATING on Mother’s Day.  I have spent the last few weeks drinking Isogenix shakes in a not all that successful effort to lose some weight.  This holiday is all about eating.  Breakfast in bed.  Lunch with my Mother In Law.  Dinner with my mother.  Three weeks of shake-drinking, eradicated by one bogus holiday.

5. I miss my friend.  This Fall, I lost a close friend to Ovarian cancer.  And all I can do is think about her husband and son today.  How this holiday, dreamed up more than 100 years ago to help mothers of sons on either side of the Civil War come together, has become a giant merchandising machine. A machine that makes the holiday inescapable, and must have made their day hell.

It’s selfish, I know, to hate a holiday that celebrates all Moms just because my friend’s son will now face all of his Mothers’ Days alone.  But if it’s still so raw for me that I was fighting back tears much of the day…I cannot imagine how it made  my friend’s husband (who is also my good friend) and son feel.  It’s hard to love a day that makes you feel like that.

6. Lastly, I hate Mothers Day because I hate any holiday where if you aren’t incredibly happy, incredibly pampered, perfectly praised by the people you love -  you feel you’ve failed.  I don’t feel all that festive today (see above).  My daughter whined.  My son complained.  Even the dog barked. So now I feel like I’ve failed at Mothers’ Day.  Failed.  At a holiday.

Pathetic.

Ah well.  At least I have a whole year until it comes again.

And then I became a parent.

It was humbling  just how many of those “fill in the blanks” I did.  Lollipops in the morning (airplane rides.)  TV as babysitter. (I had Swine Flu).  Screaming at the top of my lungs. (More often than I’d like to admit.)

Suddenly, I wasn’t so judgmental.  As a parent, you do what you have to do to stay sane, keep your children from bodily harm, and keep those around you from wanting to strangle your perfectly lovely (most of the time) but (at the moment) incredibly, inappropriately loud children.

And then I started blogging.

Why did she get that invitation and I didn’t?  Why is her Alexa Ranking so much higher than mine? She’s working with WHAT brand?  That’s not to say I wasn’t happy for my new friends’ successes.  But the truth is, often, it’s hard not to be jealous of others’ success in your sphere.  That’s just the truth. As a full fledged, mortgage carrying, crows-footed, tween totin’, grown up, I can (at least outwardly) squelch my jealousy – my shameful, embarrassing jealousy – and congratulate others on their triumphs.  And mean it.  Truly mean it.

But still.  There’s that jealousy thing.  Those pangs, like acupuncture pin pricks, not painful, exactly, but you know that if you just make one wrong move – man, is it going to hurt.

But recently, I’ve had my own success.  KidzVuz, the company I founded with Rebecca Levey of Beccarama.com, was featured in the Wall Street Journal. And suddenly, that jealousy masked as praise was directed at me.

Most people were terrific – they sent emails, and Facebook messages about how happy they were for us.  They Tweeted about the article and passed it around.  But some people  – people I thought were friends – or at least close colleagues – were silent.  And that silence spoke volumes.  And in others, I recognized myself — it wasn’t that they didn’t genuinely wish us well, but that their jealousy was palpable.  As I’m sure mine has been numerous times I’ve congratulated someone – and been happy for them – but still felt jealous, and disappointed – why not me, too?

A few years ago at Bissdom, I heard someone speak about Blogger Jealousy.  (Although really, anyone, in any industry, can be jealous of another’s success. It always strikes me as sexist that women – especially bloggers – get singled out.) But what the speaker said was “If someone gets a job or an opportunity that you did not, rather than sitting around complaining, or feeling jealous, think to yourself ‘what did that person do that I’m not doing to get herself that opportunity?’  Chances are, she worked harder.”

Rebecca and I worked hard these past two years. We learned COPPA laws, and investment terms.  We wrote a business plan, made spreadsheets, hired developers and designers and lawyers, and an accountant.  We filed for a registered trademark, wrote and sent out press releases, watched countless kids’ videos, schlepped banners and handouts across the country and hawked our wares on trade room floors, and (most horribly for me) created a term sheet (first, having to learn what that really was) and endlessly bugged our Friends and Family for investment money.  Once we raised that money, we distributed Subscription Agreements, and an amendment to that agreement, and another amendment to that. We created bank accounts and got a company credit card.  We stayed up late in the night to make sure that kids in different times zones still got to see their videos up right away. We spent thousands upon thousands of dollars, and thousands upon thousands of hours building KidzVuz.  And it’s only the beginning.

I know a lot of people do just that, and they don’t get a cover story in the Wall Street Journal.  Because that’s where luck comes in.  But as my father’s business partner used to say “Luck is putting yourself in the position to get lucky.”  And we worked hard for that position.  There’s nothing more insulting than being told “You’re so lucky.”  Not lucky.  Ready.  Hard working.  Aware.

Still, I know there are plenty of times when I think “what luck” when someone I know has something marvelous happen.

But just like the me before I was a parent, and after -I’m talking about the me before I really worked my butt off to accomplish something- and after.  Now that I’ve worked this hard for my “luck”  – now that I continue to work that hard – I don’t think I’ll be so jealous of other people’s accomplishments anymore.

Oh, sure,  I’ll be jealous. Just not SO jealous.  Because I’ll know what it took to “get lucky.”  What it takes, to even taste success.

It’s hard.  It’s exciting and exhilarating, and challenging and fun and frustrating and thrilling — and did I mention, really, really, hard.

Plus, if  Rebecca and I don’t make the most of the opportunity the article created, it will have just been a lost opportunity. Not a big success. The article isn’t in itself a measure of our success; it’s what we do with the exposure it has afforded us that matters.

So to everyone out there poised for success or enjoying it already- I know how hard it is, and I salute you.  I know the hours you put in and I respect that.

But am I still a bit jealous?  You bet.

Style Network logo (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

My name is Nancy, and I’m a fan of Giuliana and Bill on the Style Network.

I’m not a big reality TV fan.  I’ve never seen an episode of Survivor or Big Brother.  I never watched the Bachelorette (though I did watch the first season of The Bachelor.). I do not know the names of any of the Real Housewives of anywhere. I’ve even missed the show my old camp friend, Evan Weinstein, has won seven Emmy Awards producing – The Amazing Race.

This is not to say I don’t ever watch reality TV.  I just like either makeover shows, or reality shows that are truly, irrefutably awful.  That means I watch What Not to Wear, Tabatha Takes Over, and Jerseylicious, the Style network series about a bunch of inane – but lovable -  New Jersey hairdressers.  Mind numbingly bad. I love it.

But when I was on a plane to LA recently, there was a Giuliana and Bill marathon on.  I had seen a few moments of a few episodes here and there, and thought they should have re-named the show Giuliana and that Guy She Married. And I couldn’t understand why anyone cared.  To me Giuliana was a pretty, preternaturally thin b-lister (at best) with an even more preternaturally big head, and Bill was a pretty bland, perfectly nice seeming guy who – aside from the fact that he lives his entire life in front of camera, and won the first Apprentice, seemed generically handsome and kinda boring.

But when you’re trapped on a plane and you’ve finished your book, well, you watch what’s there.  And I watched Giuliana and Bill.  And here’s the thing: I kinda liked them.

Giuliana (she of the teeny body and huge head), is an Entertainment reporter.  Which is to say she had made a career of following the lives of the famous and (mostly) vacuous.  Hard hitting news it ain’t.  But she’s charming and funny and clearly smart.  And driven.  Man, is she driven. She’s also trying to have a baby, and it’s not going well.

Not at first. My first thought was – why on earth would these people go on National television with such a personal part of their lives?  It’s the epitome of  what disturbs me about a lot of reality shows – people are so desperate to be famous that they’ll humiliate themselves, or expose themselves publicly in ways I just don’t want to watch.

Years ago, and for a short time, I worked at A Current Affair (Katchung!), a demoralizing place where we, the media, harassed and exposed unsuspecting people.  I quit because I couldn’t take feeling sleazy all the time.  Next, I went to Donahue (yes, people, I am THAT old).  And that was even more depressing, because the tabloid media is SUPPOSED to be sleazy.  It’s supposed to be gossipy and sensationalist.  But on Donahue, people came to us.  People offered themselves up for humiliation. It was depressing.

So that’s how I was feeling about Giuliana and That Guy From the Apprentice She Married. Until I listened to them.  In addition to their glamorous lives – walking the red carpet!  opening for Bill Clinton!  Hanging with real stars! – they are living an infertility nightmare.  Are they doing it for fame, as part of their show? Maybe. But also to help. Infertility is so private, so difficult, so embarrassing.  And they are putting a human face on it.  They are letting people know they are not alone.

And when things got worse – when they told Giuliana she had breast cancer and she’d need a mastectomy, I figured – well, now she’ll stop the show.  But she didn’t.  She kept on.  And she shared the pain, and fear, and decisions she had to make.  When Bill said some thing like “she had to share this.  Because if just one girl gets a mammogram because of seeing what we’ve gone through, it will all be worth it,” I thought – Wow, this is what reality TV can be: real. Helpful. Important. Who knew?

This is good reality TV: Nice people.  People who clearly, truly, love each other, facing hard times.  It’s courageous.  Heroic, even.  To let millions of people see you at your worst – in the hopes of helping someone else be their best.

Now the couple has announced they are having a baby via surrogate.  Another highly personal life-event that will benefit others to see.  I couldn’t be more happy for them.

So Giuliana and Bill.  Not a guilty pleasure to virtually know you.  Just a pleasure.

Related articles

• Giuliana and Bill Rancic are expecting a baby (seattletimes.nwsource.com)
• Giuliana and Bill Rancic’s Road to Baby! (eonline.com)

But this is the statistic that really gets me: Children make up 27% of all emergency department (ED) visits, but only 6% of EDs in the U.S. have the necessary supplies for pediatric emergencies.

Six Percent.  That means 94 percent of the time someone takes their baby to the hospital, that hospital is not fully equipped to take care of them. Not equipped to take care of a baby.  Think about that.  Scary.

So that’s why I’m involved with the organization, and with the Gala this coming week honoring my friendand tireless advocate Julia Beck.  I’m joining other bloggers like Esti Berkowitz, Amy Oztan, Jessica Shyba, Melissa Chapman, Linda Grant, Nicole Feliciano, Rebecca Martin, Jennifer Perillo, Rebecca Levey and many more to help raise awareness about the charity…and the babies.

You can help, too.  First,  Sign the petition to improve pediatric care.  Then,

Follow us on Twitter
https://twitter.com/#!/rbabyfoundation
Follow us on Facebook:
http://www.facebook.com/RBabyFoundation
Grab our blogger badge: (it’s at the bottom of the home page)
http://www.rbabyfoundation.org/
Read and share our tips
http://www.rbabyfoundation.org/resources-3.php
Join us for our 5 star gala:
http://www.rbabyfoundation.org/fivestargala.php
Donate
http://www.rbabyfoundation.org/about-donate.php

We’re talking babies here, people.  And as someone who comes from a family where once, long ago, a baby did die, I know the lasting effect it has on a family.  No family should have to deal with the loss of a child because a hospital isn’t prepared.  Don’t just read this and shake your head.  Click the links.  Donate.  Don’t let the babies down. -

Katherine Rosman, who will now be forever known as my new best friend, wrote an article called “Tweens’ Secret Lives Online” and featured KidzVuz as one of the places tweens are flocking.  It’s great publicity, and the article is a great reminder of why our kids shouldn’t be on Facebook, but why places like KidzVuz and FashionPlaytes.com and Playground.com are great steeping stones for kids under thirteen looking to start participating in social media.

It’s nice to see my virtual baby grow!  Here’s hoping this in only the first of many articles about my fabulous virtual baby – www.KidzVuz.com

I was lucky enough to have AT&T sponsor me for SheStreams, the fabulous Social Media beyond the blog conference held by Maria Bailey of BSM Media at the Doubletree Hotel in Ft Lauderdale, FL.  I have not been to Ft Lauderdale in nearly 20 years — since my grandma died.  And, man, has it changed!(There’s even a water taxi now – take a look!)

First, the conference: first of all, it was weird to be there without my other half.  Oh, my husband was there – and my kids – I mean with Rebecca Levey, my KidzVuz co-founder. Second of all, I have known Maria Bailey for several years, professionally, and I never knew before this that she led a secret life as a (mildly raunchy) stand up comedian.  I mean, the woman stood up in a room full of more than 250 women (and a few men) and cracked some penis jokes!  Who knew?

Seriously, Maria gave a keynote that really was a keynote not just a commercial for a brand or person, like so many of them are.  Her keynote was warm, funny, dotted with personal yet relevant anecdotes, broad ranging in its ideas, relatable, and most of all inspiring.  She really knocked it out of the park.

Not that I was all that surprised.  I mean, last year, she pulled the first SheStreams together in no time, and created a different interesting, informative two days of sessions unlike any I’d seen at other conferences.

I like that SheStreams is about the profession of blogging.  Not that personal blogging isn’t wonderful, but professional blogging hasn’t had its own conference.  And SheStreams focuses on going beyond the blog – with sessions on legal issues (a terrific @CharChronicles), podcasting (yay @SelfishMom), making sponsored videos (from the lovely @MyGoMom), and even one on monetizing your Twitter presence from none other than the inventor of the Twitter Party, Amy Lupold Bair – @ResourcefulMom.

The conference was small enough that I got real, hands on time with the HP eprinter the HP folks were showing off.  I love mine.  I love that I can print something by emailing it to myself at my HP eprint address, but I didn’t really understand what all of the apps for the printer could do until SheStreams: now, I get a week’s worth of  Bon Appetit recipes printed out automatically every week.  I love that.

AT&T was showing off the new and truly gorgeous Nokia 900 .  I know everybody loves the iPhone — but I’m a Windows Phone kind of gal, and I have a feeling that phones like this one are finally going to get everyone else on board.  I mean, not to sound uber-nerdy – but the OS rocks. (You can read about Why I love my Windows Phone here.)

Now on to the place itself: Ft Lauderdale.  In my mind, it’s where old Jews go when their children are sick of them and their grandchildren no longer think they’re the greatest people on Earth.  Oh, and where they can drive really, really, slowly in the left lane and no one will care.

Maybe those Old Jewish Grandparents are still there (I didn’t check out Rascals and Pumpernicks) but where I was, near Los Olas, there were chic hotels and rockin’ nightlife, and the Hotel W where I had what was quite possibly the best steak I’ve ever eaten. (pricey – but oh so worth it)

So maybe I’ll need to give Ft Lauderdale another shot – between the great surfing lessons the kids took, and the fabulous meal, and the great shopping, the miles of waterway, and the Atlantic, it’s pretty appealing.

So , in addition to my annual trek to Long Boat Key, I may have to add Ft. Lauderdale.

Now, I find out that Forbes magazine, one of the world’s leading sources of business news and financial information, has named St. Augustine, Florida as one of the ten prettiest towns in America. Experts at National Geographic, the Travel Channel and Fodor’s made the list, so you know these people know what they’re talking about. They love the town’s history, and  walkability.  They call it charming and fun.

Bummer.  Looks like I’ll be criss-crossing Florida again!

Other than my AT&T conference sponsorship, this post was completely uncompensated.

LBK Sunset

I have to be honest:  mostly, I go to Florida because my parents have a condo on Longboat Key, off the west coast of Florida, near Sarasota, so we don’t have to pay for a hotel. Also, they generally leave the fridge pretty well stocked.  All in all, it’s a good deal.  Not to say that it isn’t beautiful and everything – because it is spectacular (if you’ve only hit the east coast of Florida, you’re missing out.) But the truth is, economy wins out.

But this year, we hit all kinds of parts of  Florida. Long Boat Key (Sarasota, really), then Orlando, where we saw Universal Studios, and finally Ft Lauderdale, where I attended the SheStreams conference and the kids went surfing.

First, Long Boat (or LBK, as us insiders like to say): beautiful Gulf Coast beach (Gulf of Mexico, that is.)  Unspoiled beauty due to long standing zoning laws prohibiting skyscrapers, a slow pace, a sophisticated vibe. How about that view?

We took the kids to the Mote Aquarium, strolled in the spectacular Selby Botanical Gardens in Sarasota, and marveled for the bazillionth time at the teeny tiny circus on display at the Ringling Museum.Relaxing, un hurried, and serene.  I even saw dolphins jumping in the gulf just outside my window. Lovely.

Then, we hopped in the car, drove about 2 hours, and hit Orlando.  Not serene.  Not uncrowded, but TONS of fun.  Last year, I went to Orlando as a guest of the CVB with The Getaway Girl. I spent three days finding out that Orlando can be a blast even if you don’t hit the theme parks.

This year, we hit the theme park.

The Piazza at the Loews Portofino Bay Hotel

Universal Studios Orlando, to be exact.  We stayed at the Loews Portofino Bay Hotel.  It was lovely, and

cracked me up.  I mean — they dug a bay and put row boats in it.  They built a piazza!  But somehow, it’s not terrifyingly tacky. Not at all.  I kind liked it.  And we had a not overpriced, excellent dinner on the “piazza” Your rather expensive stay includes express passes which grant you early admission to the park, and a boat ride along the faux canal to the park and back – so you don’t have to deal with parking.  A huge plus.

Hogwarts Castle in the Wizarding World of Harry Potter, an island of Island's Of Adventure in the Universal Orlando Resort Category:Harry Potter images (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

As for the park itself, The Wizarding World of Harry Potter was terrific.  The details, the signature ride, were thrilling.  And there were some other rides we loved, too.  The new Spiderman Experience was technically amazing, the roller coasters are big and scary.  But somehow, it felt more like an amusement park than a theme park.  I guess by that I mean that it didn’t feel like such an “experience.”  I never thought I’d say this – but Disney has just set that bar way up high — and ain’t nobody gonna touch it. (Though Harry Potter world comes close.)

It was the little things — like when I saw the King Tut and Cleopatra characters come out to pose for pictures in the crowd.  My guess is, they had to start at 1pm.  So at 12:55, they were standing around, looking bored, checking their fingernails. The staff overall were helpful, but you got the impression that they were working.  I’m sure that all that incredible enthusiasm and uber-niceness at Disney is forced, too.  But maybe they’re just better at faking it.

The quality of the shows also just couldn’t match up.

That being said, when my daughter fell and cut her knee, they were there in an instant with a first aid kit and got her patched up in no time. And my kids liked it fine. But  they both  missed the magic that is Disney, and preferred it to the technical, commercial Universal Studios Orlando.

One last note about the Loews hotel – when we picked up our rental car there was a hand-written note in it from the valets thanking us and hoping we had a nice stay.  Is that forced, faux enthusiasm?  Maybe.  But I liked it.  Someone sat down and wrote that out in charmingly mediocre handwriting.  Warmed my heart.  It’s the little things, I guess.

Come back tomorrow to find out about how things went in Fort Lauderdale, and why we just might have to go to St Augustine next.