1st Floor: Sci-Fi Convention

Once a week, LittleMan gets an allergy shot. Most of these trips have been uneventful. We enter, wait with countless others, get our named called, get the shot, grab a lollipop, and then leave. Today, however, we were in the waiting room with nameless faces, but two caught my eye: a boy about 12 years old and his father who looked a lot like Peter Jackson.

No, no, it wasn't THE Peter Jackson, but a guy who looked like he had ignored the same barber for some time. Since we were in Beverly Hills, I assumed this guy to be some eccentric talent... like a movie sound guy or a film editor.

Anyway, after the allergy shot was given (and my kids agonized over which lollipop color to pick *sigh*) we left the office and waited for the elevator. Soon enough, the Peter Jackson clone and his son arrived to wait with us. LittleMan noticed the 12-year old's lollipop.

LittleMan: "Your lollipop is green just like mine!"

12-Year Old: "Yup."

Me: "Ah, but his lollipop matches his shirt, LittleMan."

12-Year Old: "Actually, green is my favorite color."

LittleMan: "Me too."

BoopaLoop: Noticing the dad's lollipop, "Your lollipop is red."

Dad: Smiling, "Yeah."

Me: "But his lollipop doesn't match his shirt. See? It is gray." After a moment, "I suppose gray wouldn't be a very delicious-looking lollipop... except to kids your age", gesturing to the 12-year old.

12-Year Old: Nods his agreement

I don't really know why I kept comparing the lollipops to their shirts except to say that I'm in a habit of teaching my kids through games whenever I think to do it. I'm going to use that as my excuse (even though my kids are well beyond the "identify this color" stage) otherwise I just look like a loony.

12-Year Old: Notices my 'Jedi Academy Training' sweatshirt

Me: "Pretty cool sweatshirt, huh?"

12-Year Old: "Live long and prosper."

Me: Smiling, "That's the wrong movie."

12-Year Old: "I'm a Trekkie."

Elevator doors open, and we all get in.

Me: "Yeah, I'm a fan of Star Trek."

12-Year Old: "Are you familiar with 'Next Generation'?"

Me: "Oh, yeah!"

12-Year Old: "Resistance is futile."

Me: "Nice! Are you familiar with the game Yahtzee?"

12-Year Old: Looking slightly disappointed, "Yeah."

Me: "Well, we have a funny saying whenever a player is trying to roll a Yahtzee of ones. We say, Alexander, a Klingon warrior does not roll for ones!"

Well, I figured these two would appreciate and recognize the reference, but I had no idea they would lose control of themselves with laughter. While these two were laughing way too hard at my statement, I noticed that the elevator had filled up. There were 8 women, 2 men, 3 kids and a dog (being carried). I can only imagine what they were thinking about this conversation.

Dad of 12-Year Old: Begins to speak to me in Klingon

Me: Smiling at Dad but trying to keep the "you're a loon" look from my face

Dad: "That's basic Klingon."

Me: "Wow! That's... nice."

I'm smiling now enjoying this crazy family, but I'm certain several people in the elevator wish to escape right now.

Me: "Speaking of my sweatshirt, when do you think my son would be old enough to see Star Wars?"

Dad: "How old is he?"

Me: "6"

Random 40-something Year Old Man At Front Of Elevator: "Humph! My kids saw all 6 movies by the time they were 7. He's old enough."

Me: "..."

Elevator doors opened, and the kids and I got off. I called out a farewell and thanks to the two men and the 12-Year Old remaining in the elevator, and smiled to the kids.

Note to self: If you want to engage in elevator conversation with 35-45 year old men, talk about Star Wars or Star Trek.

Me: "That was kind of cool meeting so many people in elevator. Usually people don't like to talk to strangers on an elevator."

LittleMan: "Why?"

Me: "I dunno. People are so busy thinking about their schedules and stuff."

Random 40-something Year Old Woman: "There was a comedian that said, If you want to clear out an elevator, enter the elevator, face all of the passengers, and laugh loudly."

Me: Chuckling, "Yeah, I don't know what I would do if someone did that."

Note To Self REVISED: If you want people to talk to you, wear the JEDI sweatshirt... and if you don't, try what the comedian suggested.

Graceful I am NOT

LittleMan and BoopaLoop are 6 years and 4 years, respectfully. They also account for about 99.9% of all spills, splats, ker-BLAMS, and other "accidents" from age 0-3 1/2 years.

Something happened after that.

I venture to guess that it was the high-pitched screeching and temper tantruming that I threw after every one of these incidences. Okay, perhaps I didn't SPAZ OUT every time, but my brain always felt like there was a small firework display going off... with the neighborhood dogs howling... and a train screaming by... with a ninja thrown in (because, let's face it, ninjas are cool.)

My curiosity about their behavior ignited tonight at dinner. We were at one of our favorite kids-can-be-beasts-and-no-one-cares places, Cafe 50s.

BoopaLoop: "What are these?" Pointing to a toy she and LittleMan just received from the hostess of the restaurant.

Me: "These care called 'Jacks'. Want me to show you how to play?"

LittleMan: "I know how to play. You bounce the ball and grab one of these. Then you bounce it and..." trailing off after losing track of his thoughts.

Me: "Right! You pick up each Jack one at a time, but you have to catch the ball in mid-air after you pick up each Jack."

The kids were watching me, but clearly not really getting the picture.

Me: I demonstrate the game for them.

Now, it had been some time since I had attempted Jacks - about 28 years, probably. I bounced the ball on the table, and watched as the ball bounced pathetically high. I wasn't even close to picking up the Jack much less the ball before the ball bounced on the table again. I scrambled to get the ball before it rolled off the table.

I realized I would have to bounce the ball harder.

Sure enough! BOOM! The ball bounced much higher, I grabbed a Jack, and caught the ball in mid-air. My kids were appropriately impressed. So was I. I bounced the ball, grabbed a Jack, bounced the ball, grabbed a Jack... This continued until I had about 3 Jacks left. These 3 were going to be hard to pick up in time since they were in a big pile and not spread apart. For those of you familiar with this game, you know that picking one Jack from the pile is pretty difficult.

But, my kids were watching, waiting to see how this all would turn out. So, I bounced the ball really hard, attempted to grab a Jack, ricocheted the Jack off my fingers, tried to stop said Jack from flying off the table, quickly attempted to catch the ball in mid-air, and watched as my sleeve caught on my silverware. The knife that got caught in my sleeve was pushed with so much force (remember, I was trying to catch the ball before it bounced again on the table) that the knife knocked my FULL glass of Diet Coke all over the table. It also shattered the glass!

I was struck dumb. It was practically a ballet the way the whole event happened. It was unbelievable. However, I was also mortified that I had not only made a huge mess which led to a broken restaurant glass, but I had behaved in a manner I have repeatedly told my children NOT TO in a restaurant.

BoopaLoop: Struggling not to cry

Me: Alarmed! "Oh, honey. It is okay." Laughing at myself, "See? Mommies make messes too!"

BoopaLoop: Smiled but was still clearly devastated.

LittleMan: "That was totally cool."

LittleMan's reaction had me laughing, but BoopaLoop... I must have completely scarred her for life with the idea that messes are not okay. But I don't remember yelling or putting the children on time out for accidentally spilling stuff. I do remember being "short" with them, but I explained that mommy was just frustrated that I had a huge mess to clean up. Perhaps BoopaLoop took my plight to heart.

But there is something else that disturbs me about this incident - in the last year, my mother an I have spilled more beverages than the kids had the first 3 1/2 years of their life!

How do I explain this trend away?

Happy Birthday, Mama DB!

Yesterday I did a post about friendship.

Today is the birthday of one of my closest friends. Happy Birthday, Mama DB!

She is an awesome mom of two incredible kids, a loving wife to a lovable guy, and an amazing photographer. So, to show her the proper respect and to honor a fellow stay-at-home mom, I will now relate to my mom "Hi MOM!" the masses a funny story about her.

About 1 year ago, she and I got it into our heads that in order to help encourage us to cook for our finiky children, we should do family-style meals together. The idea would be that the children would help encourage each other to eat, but what ended up happening was a bunch of tag teaming and yelling for children to "stop acting like the food was poison!"

Most of the time the food wasn't.

However, there was an instance where Mama DB and I decided that we really needed our own reality show called, "How NOT To Cook".

I had frozen chicken tenders that I was planning to cook this particular evening that Mama DB and her family joined us. We were going to douse these chicken pieces in yellow curry sauce, and throw in a side veggie dish and starch dish and you have yourself a banquet!

Well, when it was about 30 minutes before dinner was to be eaten, Mama DB asked me if I had defrosted the chicken. I said, "No, I always cook them from frozen." She looked at the time, and then she looked at me and said nothing.

Elapsed time: 25 minutes

Chicken was cooking on the stove top. Everything else was ready except for the chicken, which was (admittedly) getting a little burnt on the outside and was still raw and partially frozen on the inside. Mama DB peered over my shoulder and said... nothing. I was still poking the chicken hoping that it would miraculously change from being a disease-infested dish to a delicious work of art. But... barring the use of illegal drugs to impair our judgement, that WASN'T going to happen.

Total elapsed time: 35 minutes

Mama DB sees the frozen chicken on the pan, and she suggests, "How about we boil it?" Desperate for something that would salvage the chicken, I say SURE! I take a big step back and leave my chicken in the capable hands of my friend with ample boiling experience.

Total elapsed time: 45 minutes

The chicken had finished boiling and was in fact cooked all the way through. We then looked at it...

I poked it...

The consistancy was inexplicable. It is like touching one of those fake chickens they use for comedy routines. Yes, RUBBER! It felt like a rubber chicken. I have finally discovered how they make those!

But, I wasn't going to say anything about it. Mama DB had saved my dinner!

Except, no amount of cooking or yellow curry sauce could save the rubber chicken. It was too... weird. I don't know how else to describe it.

Huh... after reading this story, I realize this is more about my cooking ineptitude rather than a funny story about Mama DB. Well, Mama! That's what friends are for. Happy Birthday!

Friendship

I got this definition of friendship from Wikipedia.

"Friendship is a term used to denote co-operative and supportive behavior between two or more people. In this sense, the term connotes a relationship which involves mutual knowledge, esteem, and affection and respect along with a degree of rendering service to friends in times of need or crisis. Friends will welcome each other's company and exhibit loyalty towards each other, often to the point of altruism. Their tastes will usually be similar and may converge, and they will share enjoyable activities. They will also engage in mutually helping behavior, such as exchange of advice and the sharing of hardship. A friend is someone who may often demonstrate reciprocating and reflective behaviors. Yet for many, friendship is nothing more than the trust that someone or something will not harm them."

That last sentence made me sad. To think that some people expect nothing more from their friends than a trust that they will not be harmed.

I have few people I would call friends. Not because I'm not likable but because I expect to be there for every one of them. I just wouldn't have enough energy to have tons and tons of friends as some people aspire to. No thank you. I like having my small circle of friends to be able to drop everything for - whatever the occasion, and I'm blessed that my friends do more than "do me no harm".

There has been an occasion or two where someone who I might have called friend made me feel badly about myself, and I had to make the hard decision to no longer give that person my time or effort.

Someone once told me, "Why be friends with someone who makes you feel bad about yourself?"

Brilliant.

To me, friendship is being passionate about your friend's passion, yelling at a random stranger when an injustice has fallen on a friend, or having your friend's back when the chips have fallen (whatever that means).

I never question a friend's motives unless they have asked me to. I have faith in my ability to pick great friends to assume the best about them rather than question their actions.

Otherwise, what a sad world I would live in.

Happy 40th My Mukor

Granted, it isn't really My Mukor's 40th birthday, but celebrating it today (about two weeks early) was the only way I could think to really surprise him. Five of his closest friends showed up early this morning (8:30 AM is early for him), and they took him to Six Flags Magic Mountain.

Mama DB helped me set the surprise stage so well. I told My Mukor to block today out for her birthday, since Mama's birthday is in early December. However, that wouldn't be enough to get him showered and out of bed bright and early. Nothing would ruin this perfect surprise birthday more than to have My Mukor come out of his bedroom in his bathrobe surrounded by his friends. Okay... THAT would have been fun, but not for him.

So, we devised this plan that Mama DB's family would arrive early this morning, and the reason My Mukor had to be up and showered was so he could take the children to the zoo early to see the gorilla feedings...?! What?! This was Mama's idea, and I would NEVER have thought of that.

Have you ever played two lies and a truth? It is a game where you say two things which are lies and one truth, and your friends have to figure out which one is true. Well, the key to that game is to make certain that both the lies and the truth are slightly unbelievable; therefore, making them all mostly believable! That's what this "gorilla feeding" excuse was - just slightly unbelievable to be believable!

There was only one little hitch in the perfect plan. Last night, My Mukor looked online at our AMEX charges (as he does from time to time to help thwart fraudulant charges) and noticed a large charge for Six Flags Magic Mountain. Sigh... darn. My Mukor was looking right at me with puzzlement in his eyes, and I'm a horrible liar. Oh sure, I had a ton of great excuses I could have used in a moment's notice, but without any practice to make my lie believable, I had to tell him the truth.

"Those charges are for your 40th birthday party."

My Mukor was so EXCITED! He couldn't wait for his birthday to arrive, so he could go on wisdom-defying rides. I guess telling him a 1/2 truth kept him from being suspicious about the next day.

[Cue MISSION IMPOSSIBLE music]

This morning, I woke up waaaay too early in my excitement. I double-checked the weather to make certain it wasn't going to rain (probability of rain 0%). I verified that I had all of the Magic Mountain tickets printed and ready to go. I even printed out directions on how to get there. Now, all I had to do was wait.

The plan was for the men to arrive at 8:30 in order to leave at 9 AM. The park opens at 10 AM, so I thought this would leave them plenty of time... just in case one or more friends are late - as some are prone to do. My kids wake up at 8 AM, and Mama's family shows up soon thereafter.

I forgot to mention to the men that they could come INSIDE our house, so they were waiting out in our driveway waiting for the signal that it was okay to come inside. At 8:40 AM, I called them inside, and I had them wait in the kitchen. By this time, My Mukor was mostly dressed and getting ready to come out of his bedroom.

My Mukor came strolling down the hallway, wandered into the living room, and was about to use his laptop, when we all came busting in from the kitchen singing "Happy Birthday". I could tell at first he didn't get what was going on. After all, it wasn't his birthday. But after a moment of seeing everyone singing to him and his wife holding a video camera, he got it. And he grinned from ear to ear before shooting an accusing look at me and his friends.

Then came the fun part of regaling him with stories of how we tried to pull this off. This of course was followed by him denying that he knew anything about this other than the AMEX charge slip up the night before.

After leaving around 9 AM, the men returned at 8 PM with smiles on their faces, souveigners and exhausted bodies. They had stopped to eat dinner on their way back, and they had a BLAST!

MISSION 40th SURPRISE BIRTHDAY = COMPLETE

Meme - Purse Confessions

Normally, I dedicate Fridays to "Free Enterprise Friday", but after an outing with Mama DB and our children tonight, I was inspired to create this Meme.

So, Mama DB and All Things BD, you have been tagged. Once tagged, you need to pass it on to two others (or not - I really can't make you).

I have titled this Meme "Purse Confessions".

Empty your purse, and reveal to the world all you have stored inside. If the use of the item listed is not obvious, please provide an explanation. (Mama DB, I can't wait to hear some of yours... which of course prompted this blog.)

TYPE OF PURSE: Generic backpack purse

COLOR: Black

CONTENTS:

Little Front Pocket

- Car keys

- Altoids (wintergreen flavor)

- Three pens

- Garage key

- Burts Bees Lip Balm (addictive)

- 22d Airlift Squadron Medallion (I use when playing poker. I got it from a friend's sister.)

- Copy of My Mukor's car key

- The Doctor's Brush Picks (Excellent dental tool discovered by All Things BD)

- Copy of My Mom's house keys

Front Zipper Pocket

- Numerous membership cards

- 'Sumita' facial blotting tissues with tea tree oil

- LittleMan's asthma medication prescription

- Various business cards

- My school ID cards from elementary and middle school (Given to me by My Mom and make great conversation pieces)

- Expired coupons

- Random wallet-sized photos

Front Zipper Section

- Pick Up Palz (to give away)

- Gift cards to local restaurant Cafe 50s

- 4 Madagascar 2 toys from Happy Meals

Back Zipper Section

- Bank checks

- 4 Islands Restaurant $5 Gift Cards (for stocking stuffers)

- Unopened Sony DVC (cassette for video camera)

- Newspaper clipping for Writingclasses.com (toying with the idea of taking a writing class)

- Jiffy Lube rewards club card

- List of presents my children want to buy for other people

- Opened and fully used Sony DVC

Change Purse

- Too much change weighing my purse down (but all change and no trash!)

Bill Compartment

- Empty (Carrying cash can be too dangerous for me.)

Quick Card Access Area

- Driver's License

- Credit Cards

- YMCA Membership card

- Contact information for a lady I play tennis with

- Coffee Bean gift card

- AMF Bowling gift card

- Aquarium parking pass

- Social Security Card (?!)

- Expired coupon to Toys R Us

- Starbucks Coffee gift card

- Insurance card

- Bed Bath and Beyond gift card

- Borders gift card

- Suncoast gift card

- Playdate LLC credit cards

Wow! No trash in my purse?! Well, except for the expired coupons, but still that's... unbelievable!

... Oh wait, the cleanliness is due to my recent trip to visit All Things BD in Texas, so I cleaned my purse out before the airport scanner saw how much TRASH filled it up.

Okay, there is my list. If I haven't tagged you and you want to do one, please let me know, so I can read it. My mocking pen is at the ready... I can't wait.

Who Are The People In Your Neighborhood?

Some school mornings, I walk LittleMan to kindergarten. Other days it is My Mukor who walks him, but today it was me. Usually, when it is my turn, [using a deep weatherman voice] there is a high probability of LittleMan not making it on time! [end voice]

I seem to have a hard time exercising, showering, getting LittleMan to dress appropriately, getting breakfast ready, getting children to eat breakfast, brushing children's teeth, brushing LittleMan's hair, getting self dressed, getting hair blow-dried, and making LittleMan's school lunch all in a 2 hour time frame. Almost every time I have to take him to school, one of these steps is skipped or done half-heartedly otherwise we are late. Who knows how many teeth are actually brushed when I have LittleMan do it himself? LittleMan hates cheese and all they are serving at school for lunch is grilled cheese and pizza, but oh well! Here is a dollar for the hot lunch I'm going to act like I know nothing about.

He's 6 - he'll get over it. I probably won't, but he will.

This morning, as the gates were closing at the school just as we dashed through them, I was congratulating myself on getting LittleMan to school on time today. (Note: My hair was wet, and LittleMan didn't have a sacked lunch.) I was walking home from LittleMan's school a little later than usual, when I noticed one of our neighbors leaving his home for his routine walk.

Most of the time, I miss running into this particular neighbor since I usually get back to my home a lot sooner than today, but I was waylaid by several parents wanting to compare notes on the parent-teacher conferences. Whatever - the point is I realized, as I was getting ready to pass him that I was a little anxious about him. You see, he looks like a cross-between Billy Bob Thorton from Sling Blade and a lumberjack.

When we first moved into this home about 4 years ago, I was walking around the neighborhood with BoopaLoop in a stroller and LittleMan greeted this neighbor by saying, "HI!". The man didn't seem to hear him, so LittleMan said it again much louder, and the man's step hitched, but he continued by us without looking at us. At the time, I was both annoyed and relieved - his... affect made my mommy's radar go off.

Now, why is that? Because he is possibly an introvert? Because he is possibly developmentally disabled? What has this man done to warrant my fear and mistrust? But, then I was thinking of how stupid I would look if it turned out that this man was violent, and I tempted fate by walking near him with small children. Wouldn't most of society say, "Well, she should have known better to pass a man looking like that!"

Now, back to this morning.

So here I was alone, in the light of morning, in a quiet neighborhood, when my neighbor realized that I was walking a faster pace than he was, I guess, since he stopped and turned to let me pass him by. Trying to ignore my fear, I maintained my pace and smiled at him. He smiled back and said, "Hey ya." He was very calm, his eyes were kind, and he was being a gentleman.

Shame on me.

Don't get me wrong - I fully intend to teach my children that you teach people how you want to be treated, so dress accordingly (please don't get me started about how the youth are dressed like prisoner-escapees). But, this man had done nothing but try to appear harmless, and I judged him for that. He was wearing a clean, plaid shirt and clean, brown, corduroy pants. He hadn't shaved in forever, but it looked brushed. Why wouldn't it be?

I'm not really certain what lesson I've learned from this. Yes, a mother's instinct is critical. Yes, you should keep your children out of harm's way.

But perhaps I need to use a little wisdom before condemning someone to the chainsaw massacre hive.

Parent-Teacher Conference Time

LittleMan is mostly a 3 with a smattering of 4s.

What?

Today was LittleMan's parent-teacher conference, and we received a sheet of paper with a bunch of numbers on it to show us how he is fairing as a repeat kindergartner.

He is mostly a 3 with a smattering of 4s.

I'm repeating it in the hopes that it will mean something. I do know that 3 represents "Proficient" and 4 represents "Excels". But what I was waiting for was an objective measurment sheet to show me why the teacher allocated 4s for certain subjects. The 3s allocations were pretty straight-forward: he completed a certain number of basic test scores correctly, so he is at least a 3... apparently.

But, there isn't any objective scale for determining when a child is exhibiting gifted or above-average levels. I asked! How do you decide a child is gifted at art? So, why the 4s? That's completely up to the teacher's discretion.

Now, LittleMan has an excellent teacher who has been doing this job since the dinosaurs roamed, so her experience has some value. But the truth of the matter is that how she measures is just her opinion. It doesn't mean he is actually gifted... or it might. Frankly, I don't think that is really important, and yet teachers spend a lot of time convincing themselves you why a 4 was warranted.

I'm not trying to sound ungrateful. I love that LittleMan is doing well, and that holding him back to repeat Kindergarten was the right choice, but I don't see the point of this report card.

So what I did take away from this conference? LittleMan loves to learn, he is perceived as a good kid by his teacher, he is an expert hall-monitor, he is academically right where he needs to be, we can do some stuff at home to help challenge him, and his best friend has a tendency to get him into trouble. Okay... sounds good except that last part.

Frankly, I think the fact that LittleMan's teacher gave my son some 4s represents her appreciation of my son's skills in those subjects. That's it. And that's good.

He loves learning. And that's the point.

Do parts of speech matter?

My Mukor and I were talking about our antiquated public school system which led to other subjects, and he made a point that I didn't have a good answer for.

My Mukor: "Why do they teach parts of speech in grade school?"

Me: "Uh... What do you mean?"

My Mukor: "Nouns, adjectives, adverbs, verbs - why is this knowledge important to grade school children? These are details that Linguistic and English Literature majors may want to delve into, but I don't see the necessity of teaching this otherwise."

Me: "...I dunno. Perhaps it is a helpful tool for teachers when getting children to understand how to write. Maybe it helps to break it into smaller parts."

My Mukor: "But children know how to talk from example. Knowing that they are using NOUNS and VERBS has no intrisic value to this process. And, when a child writes, they write like they talk. I really don't see the point."

Me: "..."

I got nothin'! I have no good reason why we are taught the parts of speech. Of course, this conversation started because I asked what part of speech "afternoon" was. I asked if it was an adverb or a noun? He didn't know, and so began the discussion of why this was important to fill his brain up with.

Frankly, I think he was just coming up with a reason to excuse his lack of basic knowledge after getting a 800 on the English portion of the SAT.

How is this efficient?!

About 4 years ago, My Mukor and I bought an energy efficient washer and dryer set.  We were trying to make certain we were minimizing our water bill doing our part for the environment.  However, I'm convinced these machines are just efficient in name only and don't actually do anything!

Yes, my clothes come out of the machines clean and fluffy.  And, yes, they have easy to understand buttons.  But does it really take an hour and 30 minutes to get your whites WHITE?!  And, HELLO, how is that efficient?!

I use Consumer Reports before making any expensive purchase. Most of the time I pay attention to the details of their report: which is loudest, which gets out stains, which stains does it get out, which uses less water, etc. etc. etc. I seemed to have missed the section that read: Waste less water and energy but waste most of your time!

This last week, I tried to pay attention to the machines to find out what the problem was, but I really have no clue. I think it has something to do with the machines turning mostly off during the cycle to conserve both and to marinate the clothes in their own filth. I dunno, but if the idea was to anger me enough to make certain I found ways to NOT wash my clothes, this is a WINNING strategy.

Thanksgiving 2008

This year, our family celebrated Thanksgiving on Saturday rather than the government-designated day since this was the only day we could all get together. And it was totally worth the wait.

When I was seven, my family moved from Massachusetts to California. (Please forgive the seeming non sequitur, but please bear with me.) From that moment on, my family has been celebrating at a minimum Thanksgiving and Christmas every year with my mother's sister's family. That my aunt's family for those easily confused.

As we have grown up and grown older, it is easy to forget how blessed we are to have such a big, loving family. It is easy to forget because they are always there. Maybe not in person but in my mind - knowing that their support and love is always with me. Why wouldn't it be? That's all I've ever known, and it has shaped me for the better.

Coming together again with all of our families just reinforces that bond... but it also makes the absence of those who couldn't join us more poinent (like All Things BD). However, life goes on, and you appreciate what you have rather than what you are missing.

Yes, Thanksgiving was an amazing celebration. Not because of the delicious food or beautiful decorations but because we were all together giving thanks for having each other. My grandmother, Jane, passed several years ago, but her legacy of family lives on. And her family is reaping the fruits of her labor. Thank God!

Yeah... you can say that I have a LOT to give thanks for.

Free-Enterprise Friday

(Continuing the sharing of my failed and successful experiences at getting a new product created.)

Once I received feedback from the Innovation Institute that my product idea in their opinion had a Mixed Feasibility score, I had to seriously consider their advice and decide if I was going to pursue this product or scrap it.

One of the concerns mentioned in my review was that I was selling the product for too much. After all, removable labels with an educational graphic can be home-made. They wouldn't be as nice or durable, but I had to find a price that would be "worth it" to these crafty-type moms too. Crafty-type moms are part of the demographic I am selling to, so I have to consider how to make my product appealing to them. The fact that mine were done by professionals would not be enough to get parents or teachers to plunk down $25 for 30 labels when they could make shoddy ones for 1/4 of that. So, I had to go back to the financial drawing board.

First, I looked to where I could cut costs. My cost sheet had items like Advertising, Storage, Packaging, Manufacturing, Internet, Legal, Office Supplies, and other miscellaneous costs. The greatest expense is manufacturing, so I began there.

NOTE = The manufacturer of my product also handles the packaging.

Was there a way I could decrease the per unit cost without sacrificing quality? Yes! I could increase the number of labels I ordered from the manufacturer. If I asked the manufacturer to make 5,000 labels instead of 1,000, I could reduce my manufacturing per unit cost significantly since the company I deal with decreases the per unit price the more I order. If your manufacturer is unwilling to offer discounted prices based on quantity, then you need to find another manufacturer.

Now, 5,000 of any product is a lot. You will not sell all 5,000 any time soon unless you get very, very lucky. You should plan on most of them sitting around for a while. With that in mind, depending on the nature of your product, you may not be able to store that many without added costs. However, in this case, labels don't wear down or take up much space, so I can easily store a large number without fear of damaging the quality of my product. I won't have to pay extra for storage or maintenance. Increase number of product manufactured = check!

Another significant savings would be to offer fewer labels per pack. Originally, I had designed 30 different labels. I reduced that number to 20 to further decrease the per unit price. Now, I had 20 labels per pack. Decrease number of labels per pack = check!

My wholesale price went from $12.00 per pack to $4.50 per pack.

Next week I'll explain wholesale versus retail prices and how I calculated profit.

Happy Thanksgiving!

My Dog Is A Genius

My dog is a genius. You are just going to have to take my word for it since I don't have an operational digital camera. (It's on my Christmas list under the heading "Yeah RIGHT!")

About twice a day we give our 7-year old puppy, Travis, a treat. The reason we still call him (and all dogs) a puppy is because I got him when he was 2 months old, and he was only 4 months old when I first introduced him to my niece who was 1 year old at the time. And, as everyone knows, the universal rule is that you have to refer to your dog as a puppy FOR. EVER. to children that young. That is why our neighbor's dog who is 14 and limping is still called a puppy by our children. Look, it isn't technically correct, but it is cute - so quit your TSK-ing!

Ahem.

As I was saying, Travis gets a steady supply of treats during the day. We have two different varieties of treats for our spoiled prince loving dog. One is the ever so healthy Begging Strips made of bacon-substitute and other questionable materials. These don't get chewed. I don't know how he manages to swallow something that big whole. The other treat is called Meat Bones. Travis is about 45 pounds which puts him at the high end of MEDIUM-sized and the very low end of LARGE-sized.

So, when I see the Meat Bone treats for large dogs, I figure it is better to have too much than too little. (This is why I can never shop at Costco, by the way.) I buy the 4000000-pound box of treats and heave it home.

Now, you may be falling asleep asking yourself what does this have to do with the intelligence level of my pooch. The answer is simple. Not a whole lot, but I like stories.

Anyway, my kids love giving Travis treats, so I leave this honor to them. I never really paid too much attention to my dog after he receives the treat. As far as I'm concerned, once a successful transfer of treat to no-limbs-coming-off has occurred, my job is done. But this time, I paid a little more attention to the dog after he received his Meat Bone treat for LARGE-sized dogs.

This treat is a little bigger than the width of his face, so it is good sized.  And, Travis has a tendency to gobble treats down, so I was curious to see how he manages to contain himself with this bone. Turns out, he has figured a way to wolf it down without risking too much injury to himself. He bites it in half.

I'm not talking about biting in half vertically, but he nibbles on it until the whole bone has split completely in half horizontally or length-wise. Seriously.

So, why can't a dog, that can perform such intricate work in order to wolf down half a bone, do something more constructive - like babysit my children or do laundry?