Insert High Heel in Mouth

To quote "Miss Woods Comma Elle" in that seminal work of cinematic genius, Legally Blonde: OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD, you guys! Poor Lauren Caitlin Upton, Miss Teen South Carolina. In case you’ve been reading The Wall Street Journal, say, and not the gossip mags, this 18-year-old beauty contestant flubbed big and LIVE on national TV recently when it came to answering her on-the-spot pageant question about why so many Americans can’t correctly point out our country on a world map. AOL’s homepage asked, how much do you sympathize with her? My answer: who wouldn’t feel for this young woman?

I mean, who among us hasn’t screwed up sometime, perhaps not in front of gazillions of people on live TV but still! What I love is Lauren’s explanation, offered later on The Today Show: a simple yet effective “…I made a mistake. I’m human.” Kudos to this not-so-dumb blonde for having the guts to say it like it is. How many adults three times her age do you know who could never admit to having made a mistake to another person, let alone the TV watching public?

If it’s any consolation, Lauren, I’ve been there, done that. On one of my earliest live TV appearances, I totally froze searching for a common word. As I was tripping over myself, all I could think, over and over in my head, was “I can’t believe this is happening to me on live TV.” Thankfully, I covered my tracks and only my nearest and dearest could correctly interpret my deer-in-the-headlights look. The host went on to invite me back on the show to speak about something else not soon after, and being more relaxed, I went ahead and nailed that appearance, if I must say so myself. (“You didn’t screw up this time,” said one helpful family member.)

So Lauren, take heart. It takes a real winner to admit that she’s made a mistake. You may not have taken home the crown, but you’ve captured the hearts of many of your fellow sometime fumblers (also known as human beings).

The Big College Shop & Other Pressing Matters

Ah. Late August. Forget trips to the beach. If you're a mom of a college-Freshperson-to-be, the end of summer means making memories and bonding over bedding at Bed, Bath & Beyond, Linens ‘n Things, Tar-jhay, and a host of other big box discounters.

Because I did the whole-shopping-for-college thing a mere year ago, I’m trying my best to stay clear of these stores for the time being. But awhile back, I ran into my local BB&B for some placemats and came face-to-face with one of the season’s telltale twosomes: a mother and daughter “enthusiastically discussing” their purchases (imagine dialogue like “But Ashley’s mom let her get black satin sheets” and you get the idea).

The list of a hundred of so college must-haves (think the third grade supply list on steroids) that these stores dispense never fails to amuse. But by far the most chuckle-inducing item on the list, especially for moms of male students who pride themselves on their just-rolled-outta-bed fashion style? An iron.

My advice? Ignore the iron. Besides, there’s only one thing your new college student needs. And your scholar knows that it doesn’t grow on trees ‘cause it comes right out of those ATM's conveniently sprinkled around campus.

Yee-Haw! Howdy from Wyoming, Part II

Just checking in again from our family trip out west where this suburban slicker continues to have an incredible time exploring this breathtaking part of the country. It’s been a whirlwind of getting back-to-nature activities including a visit to see Old Faithful erupt in Yellowstone National Park, flyfishing on the Snake River, paragliding (yup, that’s right, I took the plunge and jumped off a mountain!), and lots of getting up close and personal with wildlife. Some of my favorite sightings? A black bear and its cub, and this bison (that's a buffalo to you and me), just hanging out by the side of the road in Yellowstone.

Isn't he a cutie?

Howdy, Y’all!

Howdy from Wyoming where this suburban New York slicker is on vacation with the hubby and kids experiencing this spectacular slice of America, purple mountains majesty and all. Last week I was in Manhattan near Rockefeller Plaza being interviewed on WNBC and it was so terrific to see all the tourists from all over the world enjoying our city. So now it’s my turn to be a “gaper” (local slang here at Jackson Hole for out-of-towners) here out west.

So far it’s been spectacular. The Snake River Lodge is our jumping off point to do the tourist thing. Yesterday we toured the beautiful Grand Teton National Park. Part of our wanderings included a three-mile hike up a mountain. The hubby took a pix of me on top of a 1,000 foot cliff called Inspiration Point but he “forgot” the cable thingy to allow him to upload it into my laptop so I could post it here. So instead, I am posting a gorgeous pix of the mountains we explored, courtesy of my son. Enjoy!

Hope you’re enjoying your end-of-summer time, at home or away. Wish you were here!

High School Musical: Does It Make The Grade?

This summer marks the convergence of two much-anticipated kid-oriented cultural touchstones: the publishing of the last Harry Potter book and the debut of High School Musical 2 (HSM to its devotees), the sequel to the original Disney blockbuster. To give you an idea of just how wildly successful HSM is, since bursting into ‘tween consciousness a mere 18 months ago, it’s been seen by 200 million TV viewers. And Disney projects profits from the HSM franchise (think both movies, a DVD, CD concert tour, etc., etc.), of $100 million by the end of this year.

What's the score with this thing anyway? In the interest of research, I tuned into a screening of the original HSM the other night on TV. Quite frankly, I wanted to see what all the fuss was about. Not only was the media hyping this new flick ad nauseum (there was even a big article in the Wall Street Journal about it this past Thursday), two people whose taste I trusted and admire: one of my preferred chick flick viewing pals (and mom of a daughter in that targeted ‘tween demographic) and an acquaintance, an actor now in the avant garde Broadway sensation Spring Awakening, both gave it good buzz. And while the latter was polite but not particularly enthusiastic about its artistic merits, he did admit to humming the movie’s songs repeatedly when he first saw it. Another reason for my interest? As the mom of a past local high school musical participant and current professional actor-in-training, I was curious to see this rite-of-passage writ large for the TV watching public.

So. I made it through the first half hour, after which the hubby came home and made some snarky comments about taste levels sinking to an all time low. My final verdict? Cute but cloying, and just perfect for the preteen set. Yes, of course, I liked its message of breaking out of one’s often self-imposed box and the importance of trying new things. And from what I can remember, the whole high school clique thing and its attendant drama was pretty much spot on. Still and all, I guess you have to be a 13-year-old – or the mom of one – to make it all the way through the movie in one sitting.

PS: Have you (or your kids) seen it? And, if so, what’s your take on why it’s so popular?

When in Doubt, Don't Blame Mom

Is it always the mother’s fault? Freud thought so. I don’t.

Indeed, sometimes the parents with the most “issues” have the kids who are the most delightful and well-adjusted, and the ones who look and act all June and Ward Cleaver-like end up turning out the kind of progeny about who the neighbors will one day say on TV, “I always thought there was something off about him, especially after he decapitated my cat.”

Another words, you just never know. You try your best and then you pray and/or cross your fingers. I wonder if that’s what Kathy Hilton, Dina Lohan, and Lynn Spears did. Alas, it may be too late for them – unless they start their own support group: MUDD (Mumsies Underwriting Ditzy Daughters).

The Cure for Campitis

They’re over-stimulated, over-tired, and coming off that end-of-camp high. Plus, they’re used to all that 24/7 time with their bunkmates. But now that camp’s over, it’s back to the real (read: boring) world at home for our returning campers. So what's a parent to do?

I'll be talking about the cure for campitis on WNBC TV's "News 4 U" with Perri Peltz, tomorrow, Tuesday, August 14 in the 5:30 pm half-hour, so stay tuned! 'Til then, here's a preview of six proven campitis-curing strategies:

1. Go slowly.
It’s important to give your child some much needed time to chill out and relax. Pediatricians say they see lots of patients just home from camp who are worn out, over-tired, and plain old run down.

2. Don’t just jump back into the overscheduled whirlwind.
Ease your child back into a schedule slowly. Think haircuts, doctor’s appointments, and shopping for school supplies and clothing, interspersed with plenty of hang out and downtime.

3. Acknowledge that the transition can be difficult.
Some kids may be feeling sad that camp’s over and homework’s just around the corner. Most miss their camp friends. So don’t rush your child into seeing home friends right away if they don’t want to but gradually encourage them to reconnect, perhaps first on-line. If your child is nervous about making the “switch” to his home social life, consider holding a low-key pizza and video party for his school friends.

4. Ease your child back into the school routine gradually, a bit at a time.
Each night, move bedtime up 15 minutes earlier until an optimum school bedtime is reached. Don’t just wait for the night before school to get back into the bedtime routine.

5. Hang out at your house en famille.
Plan at home family dinners and game or movie nights to give your child time to reconnect with parents, siblings, and other relatives.

6. Encourage your child to read, read, read, whether or not they have assigned reading lists.
Model good reading habits and schedule family reading hours, indoors or outside.

Hello Campah, It's Your Muddah

This is the time around here that the kiddies who were away at camp start coming home, tanned, taller, and jonesing for some of McDonald’s finest drive-through fare. And if you were a mom who was corresponding with one of them, your camper’s return comes not a minute too soon. ‘Cause you miss ‘him? Well, that too. But primarily because you’ve just about run out of things to write about to your camping offspring.

The campers have all that Color War, canoe trip, and campfire excitement to cover, and when all else fails, complaints about the food (or not; an addressed but empty envelope still gets you into the dining hall). But I remember wracking my brain trying to come up with anything vaguely interesting to tell my kids when they were off at camp. “Hi, honey, went to work again today and then stopped at the supermarket” hardly makes for fascinating correspondence matter.

Then again, it’s a fine line we letter-writing parents must walk. If the letter’s too exciting, your camper starts to wonder what he’s missing; too boring, and you run the risk of sending both of you into a narcoleptic episode.

So, until next summer’s camp correspondence conundrum, welcome home campers. Thank your lucky stars that you’ll only have to hear – and not read – all about mom’s next fascinating activity: washing your moldy swim towels, bleaching your grime-encrusted socks, and checking your head for that four-letter word that sends fear through every mother’s ‘hood: lice.

Pushing the Technological Envelope

Okay, the toga pix experience has made me eager to push the technological envelope. So, here goes: I am going to try and post a photo all by myself (without my iVillage Techno Godmother, Allison).

If all goes well, below this you will see a photo of the love of life, my ten-year-old Lab Maggie (wearing the hubby's baseball cap).

Isn't she positively Labradorable?

PS: The sandals in the left rear side of the background belong to the hubby's feet, and are, in fact, the same ones he wore en toga.

To-ga, To-ga: The Par-tay Pix

Okay, they say that a picture is worth a thousand words, so I'll keep this brief: by popular request, I am posting a picture of me and the hubby in full toga regalia. (Photo credit: my son and his cell phone)

Some important things to note:

1) I actually had the leafy garland thingies already in my house, leftovers from the time I got carried away and put fake ivy trailing out of the vases on top of my family room bookcase. How lucky was that?

2) Ditto number one above re: our sandals. Mine are from about ten years ago and feature silver, gold, and bronze straps (I try to hang onto any silver and gold accessories as they always end up coming back into style). Anyhoo, as the party was winding down, my sandals literally fell apart and I ended up walking barefoot on the hosts' gravel driveway to get to our car (ouch). But before they fell apart, they looked good.

3) The hubby ripped the pinstriped sheet he's wearing off the spare bed in our son's room five minutes before we posed for this. I gotta admit: he made it work.

So, whaddya think?

Toga, Take Two

It’s official. I am a Toga Party Virgin no more.

The hubby and I attended our friends’ Roman-theme bacchanal Saturday night in full toga regalia. Following the sage advice dispensed by TogaBoy on Howtomakeatoga.com, I purchased six yards of fabric for each of us to transform into our party attire. Mine was a regal light gold; his was (I thought) a funny dog-and-cat print. Because he’s a veterinarian, I thought I had a perfect built-in theme going on.

Of course, a half-hour before the main event, he balked at donning the fabric I so carefully chose for him (I believe his exact words were, “Are you insane? No f’ing way!”) and proceeded to take one of our son’s grey pinstriped sheets and throw it over a t-shirt, tying it with a dog leash (that theme thing again). We both added sandals, and garlands of leaves on our heads (his over his requisite baseball cap) and I gotta say, we looked GOOD.

The night was a big success; the party throwers and all our other friends who attended really went all out – so much so that the hosts mentioned something about a caveman-themed bash next year. To which I say: oy vey.

Plea to the Tech Gods

To Our Tech Gods Who Art in the Heavenly Wireless World,

Okay. You win. First, my cell phone up and expired. But now, you're really pushing my buttons. Did you have to take my laptop too?

My trusty Mac is currently fighing for its life in the intensive care unit at Apple repair as I write this on a borrowed computer. It's serious. My Apple genius said something about problems with the motherboard. All I know is that I went to turn it on the other day, pressing the little button in the upper right side, and nada. Zilch. Nothing. Never has no sound at all sounded so scary to my ears.

So, you win, oh techno gods. I realize I am powerless before thee. And that I am too dependent upon all your wondrous gadgets. Are you happy now? If so, please rush my laptop back to me ASAP and I promise to never again take your names in vain.

Your humble servant in the blogosphere, Laurie Y.