As we all know, making mistakes is one of the best ways to learn and grow. It’s a sure fire formula for growth as a kid and it’s just as effective as an adult.  I teach my child that making mistakes is part of life. If you screw up, say so. Apologies are usually golden. It’s pretty difficult to argue one’s apology. Even if you try.

It all happened a few days ago. I have a nine-year old daughter. Labeling her as “high drama” is probably putting it mildly. It’s no surprise she sings, wants to act and tells me when she’s famous she’ll let me live with her in L.A.  Yes, she’s a kind, loving, caring child, and with that comes emotions often bursting out of every pore in her little body.

Mornings are tough. I often feel I’ve worked a full day before ever leaving the house. We had one of those mornings just a few days ago. It was crazy socks day. You know, where you wear crazy socks to school, and if you’re really crazy you roll up your pants and show of your crazy socks. I know, pretty daring stuff.  It actually makes getting ready easier, but it takes some work to pull together the outfit that goes with the crazy socks and that means it all must be planned the night before.

 Piece of cake, you’d think. Except, it was also P.E. Tuesday so tennis shoes must replace the UGGs for a day.  Here’s the deal. My kid has narrow feet that only feel right in certain shoes. Purchasing shoes and wearing shoes is always a challenge. That’s why, no matter how much those darn UGGs cost, they are worth every penny if it means my mornings are easier and I never have to think about taking anti-depressants to get through this particular growth stage. 

Turns out her pair of tennies – the only pair she’ll wear these days – is NOT a pair on this particular morning because one of them got left at dance class the night before. A major, full-fledged shoe meltdown not only occurred but it sustained itself for a good 20 minutes. The clock ticked, my patience thinned, my appointment time grew closer and I had visions of why parents start leaving their kids alone when they are way too young. I eventually shuffled the still crying child with uncomfortable tennis shoes to the car, dumped her at daycare and sped off to shave time off my lateness. And while I had written my daughter the needed note to allow her to ride the bus home with her best friend, I failed to provide the additional signature on the daycare sheet, confirming that she did NOT need to be picked up in the van at the end of school. 

I suppose it doesn’t matter I hadn’t yet had caffeine, that I’d already been up two hours and really hadn’t made it anywhere, and that my nerves were already shot before I encountered any adults in the workplace. What mattered is that I didn’t follow the rules and I wouldn’t remember until several hours later when I received the afternoon  scolding call notifying me that the van was waiting and my daughter wasn’t there.

So what did I do? I apologized. I said I screwed up. I didn’t recount my morning saga. I didn’t make excuses. I didn’t remind them that by anybody’s calculation they take an exorbitant amount of money from us each month for “before and after care.”

The response back to me was something like, “So what are you going to do about this.” Oh, I don’t know, write ‘I will not repeat this action 100 times on the blackboard.’  I kept that response in my thought bubble and remembered I’m speaking to the daycare owner who’s used to reprimanding children. So, I said. “I’m sorry. I failed to sign her out. I’ll try to make sure it never happens again.” End of conversation. She again tried to say something back to me, and I again said, ‘I apologize. I’m sorry this happened.’

 I really do believe that whether you’re a kid or an adult, eventually one cannot ignore or argue an apology.

I’m embarrassed to look at my last posting date. Time and again I told myself to pull it together and start blogging again. It’s good for the soul, good for the mind, and the fact is I actually enjoyed it when I was doing it regularly. It’s when I started to slip that the guilt took over, the sense of carrying a big burden got the best of me and I figured if I just stopped the little nagging voices inside would simply go away. 

My posts started dwindling when I took a new job, exactly 366 days ago today. My excuse was that I was mentally tired from the new gig. My brain hurt. I felt my blog was just one more contributor to the stress and weight of it all. And, the more industry blogs I began reading and the more I delved into social media and all its players, the more inadequate I felt. I had no real following, I wasn’t asked to speak to big crowds, and I’ll never make the Top 100 blog list. I started my blog when I was unemployed to give me a writing outlet and help keep me sane.  It did all that, but now what?

What I should have realized is that if I had kept writing regularly it could have been a great source of release, and I probably could have shared my daily learnings in a way that people might actually enjoy.  That’s water under the bridge. But, I’m here to say: I’m back.  I won’t guarantee I’m back for good or even back on a super regular basis, but I’m going to try hard and make a true effort.

I’ll admit I was inspired earlier this week when reading about HARO Founder Peter Shankman finishing an Ironman triathlon he’s been training for since April. As a follower of his on Twitter and a reader of his blog, it was exciting stuff to read about his journey up to the race and the race day journey itself. In his post-race post he offered lessons he learned from that race that any of us could apply to our lives. I took note of those lessons and decided it was time to get the motivation going again.

One tip Shankman offered was to get up a half an hour earlier than you need to, every day. He says it will change your life. By starting your day not stressed or rushed, the rest of the day just seems a bit easier. Tomorrow I put this into practice.

With any good training regimen you need to build steadily but not rapidly, so that’s what my plan is with my life and this blog. Tomorrow the alarm goes off earlier and tomorrow I’ll think about what I’ll post on my blog for the day.

I’m restarting my journey. I hope you’ll join me.

Last week on my drive to work I was listening to the morning radio hosts lament about the trends in their neighborhoods to set out your unwanted treasures and mark them as “free” to whomever chooses to give them a new home. They claimed it’s a growing phenomenon that’s trumping yard sales, which take an incredible amount of time, and net you about $5 an hour when all is said and done. Okay, that last part about the time and hourly profit is my personal commentary. But, I speak the truth. If you’ve ever had your own yard sale, you can relate. It takes a boat load of time, only to be stuck haggling with someone over a handcrafted baby crib  - a baby crib worth $950 that Ms. Yard Sale shopper thinks she should only pay $25 instead of the $50 you’re asking (which I priced while fighting back tears).

 As I listened to the radio, I’m thinking to myself how this whole “free” things make sense, but I couldn’t say I’d seen much of it around the neighborhood. Wrong. I head out for a run on Saturday that takes me through the neighborhood and beyond, and out toward where the lots get large and the traffic less,  lo and behold I run by a couch, a desk, and some other valuable miscellaneous stuff – all marked with “free” signs.

 

I come to the end of my route where I turn around and run back the way I came. And in my return route I see a car stop, back up and test out the couch, which is quite handsome, by the way. The fact is, you wouldn’t find bad junk in this particular neighborhood. If it’s being offered for “free” it’s because it’s being replaced by something new, not because it’s come to the end of its usefulness.

 Before I reach home I gaze up a side street and see another “free” treasure. Yes, the sun was out and spring/summer cleaning was in full swing, but I was questioning if I just hadn’t noticed before that this growing trend had finally infiltrated our area.

The radio hosts were questioning whether this movement was devaluing the neighborhoods.  Was it as bad as having old cars in your yard or a rocker on the porch?  My first thought was that there is no comparison between old cars and good junk that will only stay on the sidewalk until in can be hauled to its new home.  So, I’m all for it. Put out the good stuff and let it become someone’s new treasure.

What do you think? Unclaimed treasures or unwelcomed, unsightly trash?

Every day I’m amazed by the wisdom of my eight-year-old. As her teacher says, “she’s a smart cookie,” and not much goes by her. You’d think after eight years I’d remember my verbal filter around her, knowing that fact. But, oh no, not me.

I know that if I plant a seed in her head, I better be willing to deal with the germination. Recently, she was lamenting about how either her father or I often miss her little school activities held during the day and rarely come on field trips. In my 40-something wisdom I got off an a little rant about how those of us that work for a living don’t always have the liberty to come to an 11 a.m. or 1 p.m. school event.  School events can never, ever be held right when school starts or right before school ends. If that were the case, they may get way too many working parents flooding into the classrooms.

Note to reader: my verbal filter remains off at this point, so I failed to stop there with my little “I’m a working parent” rant. I kept going, and dared to suggest that maybe if her class had a career day those of us who work could come in and talk about what we’re doing while the OTHER parents are there for all the 11 a.m. events.  I’m really not dissin’ parents who don’t hold jobs, but I think it’s pretty hard to argue with the fact that school events and the entire school calendar are not conducive to those of who work.

Before I could say much more, the seed was already growing, and Payton was on her way to becoming the “project coordinator” for career day, which meant that her mom was “volunteered” to help coordinate the day. After running my big mouth, I humbly agreed to whatever I was asked.

Since my real-life job involves a lot of plans, timelines and details I did the same for this. I sent out a detailed email asking each parent participant to stick to a 5-7 minute presentation and cover specific things, which were in line with what the kids had been asked to do on their “career posters.” Adults are the worst at following directions!

The day of the big event had me actually typing out my notes to gather my thoughts on how to explain what I do to second graders. I’m in PR. And, many adults don’t have a clue what that is, so imagine describing what I do to these eager, young minds.

We started Career Day about 2:10 and had until about 3:30. There were eight parents in all and since Mr. T and I were with the “organizer” we were the last to go. We all plopped ourselves down in those little desks and began the presentations. Now, I have to say that I absolutely love my daughter’s teacher. She’s fabulous with the kids. But, she let the first couple of parents go on and on. Granted, their careers were easier to explain – radiology tech for a Cancer Center, hairdresser, insurance broker, real estate agent – but what ever happened to brevity?

Finally, it came my turn and the kids were getting squirmy. They’d been given snacks, gifts and knew it was close to “get your backpacks ready time.” Each child introduced his/her parent, so Payton introduced me as a “problem solver” as she had written on the sign hanging from her desk. Actually, I was quite impressed, because she’s right in many ways.

Okay, without going into painful detail, the takeaway for the day is that you need to keep your presentations to second graders down to the three S’s. Keep it simple, be succinct and throw in a surprise (read here: prize, treat, gift, etc). The fact is it works for adults, too.

So, next time you’re called to give a presentation, I suggest you apply these same rules I learned from a squirrelly group of smart second graders. Simple, succinct, shiny surprises  – and you’re sure to be the big hit of the day.  And yes, you’ll definitely be deemed smarter than a second grader!

It turns out that while middle age may signal the desire to buy sports cars, lead to the exhibition of some uncharacteristic behaviors and even result in you forgetting your child’s name in the heat of delivering your most powerful reprimand, it doesn’t signal that your brain has experienced its best day.  I feel such relief!

Granted, after having a child I felt my short-term memory was shelved with the holiday decorations. And, the unfortunate thing is it didn’t resurface once a year like the splendor of each season. But, I’m over that, and for the most part, I can remember what I need to and fake the rest.

Now, along comes a book by Barbara Strauch that gives us 40-somethings great hope that our brains still work. And, not only do they work, they work better than those 20-something brains when it comes to problem-solving, exhibiting good judgment, making financial decisions and pretty much everything. Okay, that last part I made up, but I was on a roll.  And, my brain is workin’.

So, next time I have a brain lapse and think Altzheimers is knocking on my door, I’m going to think again — exercise my solid 40-year-old-plus judgment – and know that my brains just fine, even if I can’t remember your name.

Lin Yu Chun in his bow tie and bowl cut hairstyle isn’t exactly the image that comes to mind of one who can belt out Whitney Houston’s I Will Always Love You. It’s a little freakish to watch this Taiwanese 20-something sing Whitney better than Whitney can today.

I do better listening to him. It’s the watching part that messes with my brain. How does this young man, who can’t even speak English, determine that he had what it takes to sing Whitney?  Who knows, and who cares. He can sing. Period.

So, next time I’m ready to jump to judgment, I’m going to remember those enticing book covers are just that. It’s what’s inside that matters.

Since tomorrow is “casual Friday” it seems only fitting that I make it the focus of today’s blog post.  And, what got me thinking about the whole comfortable approach to mark the week’s end was my daughter  telling me about last week’s art project and how one of the moms always wears sweats and tennis shoes when she comes to volunteer. I made some comment about how great that would be, but that I just couldn’t pull that off, even on Fridays.

“Why not on Friday?” she asked with complete sincerity.

“Well, I think that’s a bit too casual, and I really couldn’t get away with it,” I responded.

But, she was persistent. “Are you sure mom? How about nice sweats?”

“No, I don’t really think so,” I replied.

So call it coincidental when as I was driving to work last week when two morning radio personalities were talking about Pajama Jeans. Upon closer inspection of the Web site, I believe that, yes, these jeans could pass the “casual Friday” test.  The added bonus is that apparently they are so darn comfortable I could sleep in them.

It appears that they are only available via the company’s Web site and there is only one style, but for $40 these might just become the latest, greatest thing.  I like to consider myself an early adopter in the fashion arena, and while the thought of wearing pajama bottoms to work is appealing, I don’t think I’ll be whipping out my credit card any time soon.

Let me know if you or anybody you know purchases a pair of pajama jeans. I’d love to hear about your experience.

For now, I’ll stick to denim for Fridays.

Tiger, I guess I get it to some degree. After three months you really want to come out of seclusion and try to piece your life back together. News Flash – I’m not all that sure it’s possible. But, thankfully a lot of money makes things better, so I’m told. But, here’s the deal, Tiger. It’s Olympics time, and these unpaid, amateur athletes deserve their 15 minutes and maybe even 15 days of fame. They are the news these days – as it should be.

Tiger, you change the game on Friday when you go public with whatever you’re going to say. I get it, I’m actually in PR. You want to control the situation. And honestly, despite many who believe differently, I think from a PR perspective you handled this one brilliantly. If you don’t put yourself in the game, eventually the game dies. And, it has. Until now.

With your announcement that you’ll be speaking on Friday you become the news – front and center – once again. And, I’m sorry, this go around your timing and strategy really sucks.

Look, you have the money, the fame and now attention beyond anyone’s belief, not to mention a bevy of women that will come lapping at your feet whenever you appear, call or whatever method you use. So why now? Why during the Olympics? And, oh yeah, that little Accenture-sponsored PGA tournament down the road; how convenient. You are good. They stuck it to you so you figure you’ll not-so-subtly stick it to them.

For the sake of you, your wife and children I hope the damage you’ve caused isn’t irreparable, but it’s too bad you let the pressure get the best of you and now have to publicly say something. Silence and seclusion were working for you. I wish you could have lasted at least another two weeks.

Two weeks from now Shani Davis will be home giving himself media traning while holding his gold medal, Lindsey Vonn will be off shooting magazine covers, Johnny Weir will be debuting his drag show on ice, Apolo Ohno will be trimming his soul patch and Nordic Combined silver medalist Johnny Spillane will be sinking back in to no-name status.

The fact is these people deserve their two weeks. For many, this is their peek. Not all, but many.

Would it kill you to hold off sticking it to Accenture? Because this really isn’t about needing to get out by Friday and do your apologizing. The only one that needs and deserves your apologies is your wife. I can only assume you’ve done that again and again. And, my advice is keep doing it, preferably in private.

Well folks, I’m not sure if there are many of you left out there. I became a bit discouraged about a month ago when my daily numbers that hovered almost at a hundred a day plummeted to about five. In the middle of a new job, and feeling overwhelmed and overtired, I figured I would deal with it later.

Later has arrived and I’ve decided it’s time to give it another go. Once I completely get my act together, hopefully within the next couple of days, I will regularly start posting again. If you’re out there, give me a shout and let me know. It would really make my day.

Talk to you soon!

If you’re a people watcher, there’s no finer time than the holiday. Every year I scratch my head in wonderment as to where many of these folks migrate to the remaining 361 weeks of the year.

Look ma, me and thousands of my closest friends out for a fun day of holiday shopping?

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not much of a shopper throughout the year, but I can assure you I’m not holed up in my house 361 weeks a year just counting the days until I can join the throng of lemmings participating in the annual mall crawl.

I’m an equal opportunity disliker. I dislike the mall every week of the year, not just when it’s so damned crowded. But add all those people to the mix and I find it almost unbearable, even if it does make for good people watching.

And, while I’m not a profiler by profession, and I have no scientific background, I do believe there are at least four solid profiles of the holiday shopper.

Profile #1 – Tortured soul. He/she isn’t really there to buy much. She secretly loves the frenzy of the crowds and feels she’s missing out if she’s not in the thick of things. To her, there’s nothing worse than not being a part of it, whatever “it” is. Who knows when the gloves will be marked down another 40 percent so you can snatch up a lime green pair for Aunt Milly – the same Aunt Milly you haven’t seen for 10 years.

Profile #2  – Grab and go. Now, this is probably closer to who I am. She comes with a list. She hates crowds. She’s annoyed by parkers trolling the lot for the best parking spot, when the fact is finding a parking spot is the best you’re gonna get. She doesn’t dilly dally or get pulled off track, except for on the rare occasion. Focus, focus, focus – that’s the mantra. Get what you came for and get out. Now, that’s a person after my own heart!

Profile #3 – The Wanderer. She has no idea what she’s getting anyone for Christmas. She plans a full day at the mall because her experience is that it always takes a long time to get just the right gift for everyone on her list – and her list is usually pretty long. She likes to compare items and prices. It means nothing to shop from one end to the other, only to return and buy the first item she considered. It’s about being thoughtful and thorough. The crowd distraction does not get in her way. After all, she is the wanderer, and she’s a warrior.

Profile #4 – The Non-Shopper. I see them even in the off-season and I simply don’t get it. Why would you come to the mall to shop when you really have no intention of shopping? The non-shopper spends several hours pretending to shop, but  very little, if anything, is purchased. The non-shopper usually comes out several times during the holiday frenzy, pulled by the need to be where the shopping is. In the end, she actually buys very few Christmas gifts, but thoroughly enjoys her shopping experiences.

Profile #5 – The Frenzy and Frazzled. Too many kids, too little money and too little time. Sometimes the partner is in tow, but he too looks harried. The brow expresses stress; the mouth depicts frustration and sometimes anger. You envision the growing credit card bill in their name, as Tattoo Barbie and Barbie’s camper, join MindFlex, razor scooter, Crayola cutter and Zhu Zhu pet in the cart.

Ah, the joys of the holiday season. There’s good reason to spike our eggnog, don’t you think?