CityMama™

Attention Women: You Are Not Pathetic

Just when I thought I was letting my blog die a slow death, Sarah Lacy’s recent article on Marissa Mayer’s life as a working mom pulls me back in.

Lacy suggests that women who are critical of Marissa Mayer’s statements that she wasn’t planning to take much of a maternity leave and that her baby is “easy” are “pathetic.” I agree with much of what Lacy says, including that we don't need Marissa Mayer's "permission to decide how to balance career and family," but unlike Lacy, I do think what high-profile working mothers say carries weight with other working mothers whether we like it or not.

Marissa Mayer and I live in the same neighborhood and I drive by her house every day. My kids trick-or-treat at her house on Halloween because not only does she have the best decorations (think Pottery Barn meets the Griswolds and she does it up for every holiday), but she hands out the best (full-size) candy. This year I admit I got a secret thrill from seeing her handing out candy while holding her baby.

She is someone I admire because raising a family and holding a job—high-profile or not—is not easy. It takes a village, and I’m interested in women I admire honestly sharing about what that village looks like. 

No, Mayer didn’t thrust herself into the role of being the most highly visible woman in tech,” she IS the most highly visible woman in tech. What she says—whether about babies or Blackberries—matters.

Weekly grocery delivery: I should have done this months ago

So I took a commenter's advice and signed up for a weekly grocery delivery service.

We used Webvan A LOT back in the day (I still have several, coveted Webvan grocery delivery bins), because living in San Francisco and working full time, it was an easy way to make sure we had staples in the house. I don't know why I didn't think of weekly grocery delivery immediately after having baby number three. Sometimes the most obvious things are, well, not.

We are a family that tends to buy the same things over and over again and veggies and fruits depending on the season, so I set up a weekly delivery through Planet Organics which will include a delivery of one of their fresh produce boxes along with staples like:

 

• milk
• eggs
• ground turkey and beef
• chicken thighs
• a whole chicken (every 3rd delivery)
• Annie's mac n cheese
• whole grain bread
• whole wheat tortillas
• assorted cold cuts
• assorted canned beans

 

It's not super-cheap, but it's worth it to me not to have to stress about having the bare basics in the house, and, especially, not to have to go grocery shopping with three kids in tow.

We'll still do smaller shops at our local Trader Joe's for our other staples: coffee, tea, yogurts, cheese, and heat-and-serve bacon (which is a staple of my Caveman Diet-eating husband's breakfast) because those things are just too expensive to get from Planet Organics.

I rely on Soap.com—the best service ever—for (free) deliveries of laundry detergent and cleaning products. (I place an order every other month.)

First delivery is set for next week and we'll see how it goes! I'm feeling more in control already.

 

Have you been to a Buca di Beppo lately?

Recently the wonderful folks at Buca di Beppo's PR agency helped me to coordinate a fun blogger bash (#bucadibloggers on Twitter) to celebrate my 41st birthday, and generously sponsored drinks and dinner. Mostly, though, I just wanted to get some friends together to have a relaxing and delicious meal.

The coveted "Pope's Table."

Buca di Beppo is one of those restaurants that is great for a celebratory crowd—portions are big and perfect for sharing. As someone who loves food an eating and dining out, I admit that in recent years, Buca di Beppo has fallen off my radar. It's not fancy, and they are a chain that serves Italian-American fare. As someone who is half-Italian, Buca doesn't serve the kind of Italian food I grew up eating (which focused on lighter pastas, salads, and grilled meats and fish rather than fried and breaded items doused in cheese and sauce), but isn't there always a time and a place for this kind of comfort food? (Especially their thin, cracker-crust pizza?!)

When the PR gal approached, she talked about Buca's refocusing on the fresh, simple ingredients they are known for (you enter through the kitchen so you can see that there's nothing to hide there), and wondered if we might want to come in and reaquaint ourselves with their food.

I'd know

There is a group of moms that meets regularly at the park near our house. Even if I couldn't hear them talking, I'd know they were Korean.

I'd know because before they eat their snacks, someone pulls out a cheery table cloth and spreads it out over the picnic table or on the grass.

I'd know because next come the plastic containers full of fruit of every kind, cut into pieces easy for toddler hands to hold.

I'd know because along side the fruit are more containers and packages full of rice and toasted seaweed, potato chips, cookies, and cut-up veggies.

I'd know because in winter, I can smell the steaming cups of barley tea. In spring the tea is cold.

I'd know because some of the children don patterned bibs before eating.

I'd know because of the way they scoop their children snug into their laps and pass them snacks before ever eating anything themselves.

I'd know because of the way they sit in a circle facing each other, talking and laughing.

I'd know because everyone—mother and child—wears a wide-brimmed sun hat.

I don't speak Korean and I don't necessarily look Korean and I never even visited Korea until I was a married adult, but they are part of me and I am part of them.

And I'd just know.

photo: George Goes Korean

Why I ditched my iPhone and AT&T and got a Blackberry

For almost two years now, I've had my iPhone 3G. Before that, I had a Blackberry Curve which I loved. It was compact and light and allowed me to do the two things I most needed to do to be productive:

1. Make calls.
2. Respond to emails in a timely fashion.

I was happy as a clam.  Then I got the iPhone and, not so much with the happy anymore.

I DON'T CARE WHAT THEIR ADS SAY—AT&T SUCKS

Raise your hand if you have an iPhone and have suffered dropped calls.

(Wow, that's a lot of you!)

For two years now, I've suffered through dropped calls (multiple times a day) and failed calls when I tried to call those dropped people back.

I've even not answered calls, because I knew I was in a place where the coverage was bad. Like inside my house.

I learned to text--not call people--if I needed to communicate.

I've had to deal with lack of coverage in puzzling places, like, literally right in front of Steve Jobs' house. (I'm serious, he lives in Palo Alto and I went to an event at someone's house who lives next door and I parked in front of his house and had zero bars. Can't he do something about it? Shoot, Cheney built his own cell tower out in the Wyoming brush. Not that Jobs is Cheney, but they are similarly robotic now. Can't he put up some towers in the heart of Silicon Valley? )

And worse—this is the clincher—I've put off responding to emails because it was easier to wait until I got back to my home office rather than hen-peck out my response on the touch keyboard. If I can't respond on the go, what is the point of having a "smart" phone?

Why do we put up with this nonsense? I've been on the phone with AT&T many times over the past two years complaining about the lack of coverage and dropped calls and have never been able to get a straight answer about what they are doing to fix the problem. I live in the heart of Silicon Valley, for cryin' out loud. There is no excuse for this.

Grateful for you, Palo Alto safety watch volunteers

Recently I wrote about the teen suicides that have been plaguing my town, and since that time, a group of parents and other volunteers have joined together to do something to prevent them.  Every night since the end of October, they keep watch--like guardian angels--over the tracks where four of our teens have taken their lives in the last six months.

When I heard about the fourth suicide I thought, "That's it, I'm just going to stand out there myself until the trains stop running for the night. This has got to stop." I'm so thankful to know that a group of parents felt the same way and is doing it. I will be joining them since I know they need help.

What is the causing our kids so much pain? What can we do to prevent them from hurting/killing themselves? Our whole city seems to be involved in self-examination and reflection at the moment and that's a good thing.

If "Palo Alto Track Watch" prevents even one child from putting him or herself in front of a train it will be worth it. Our community is closing ranks and this response feels right.

To volunteer send an email to wecarepaloalto@gmail.com.

In this economy, love thy neighbor

One evening about a month ago, I received a phone call from a woman who attends my beloved hippie church asking me how I was doing and if I wanted to talk to our beloved minister about any issues relating to the economic downturn. (I realize that's a lot of "beloveds," but this place and the people in it are my rocks.) She was reaching out to all the members of our community to ask if we were facing a job loss or home foreclosure or anything else that might be causing financial hardship. She also let me know about a new group forming at church—the "Recession Riders"—and that its members were planning on weathering the economic storm together.

I've heard people saying that the area I live in is "recession proof." Restaurants are packed, people are out and about doing their thing, but I wonder: when it gets worse, and it will, will this area crash that much harder? How many people in my community are barely keeping it together or putting up fronts or needing help but are too afraid to ask?

Dear Cyber-Bullies, Your moms are on Facebook

Last week, a dear friend of mine emailed me a link to Facebook "hate group," created about her son. After getting over the initial shock which included my heart breaking into roughly a thousand pieces, several thoughts ran through my head:

"Who are these kids?"
"Why would they do such a thing?"
"Do their parents know?"
"Why weren't more kids posting comments that this was wrong?"
"Who do I know at Facebook (which is headquartered five minutes from my house)?"
"How do I get this taken down?"

I knew my friend was very upset, but strangely, the person I knew who would emerge from this "okay" was her son. Of course, I felt protective of him, but he's just in a different world from people like that. Did I want to throttle those kids? Yes. Would I feel like an absolute failure as a parent if I knew my kids ever did something like that? HELL yes. But their intended target is one of the most sweet, brilliant, and together kids I know. If anyone could come out of this looking at the bigger picture, I knew it was this amazing boy. The person I was most concerned for, one mother to another, was my friend.

How the Grinch tried to ruin Christmas and how he didn't know he would be blogged

Wallie with her beloved smoked salmon plate.

On Christmas Eve eve the girls and I hit up the local mall with my mom and brother to do some last minute shopping and along the way, we decided to stop and have lunch.  My brother wanted to continue shopping and said he'd meet us for dessert so my mom and I headed into the restaurant with Bunny and Wallie and promised to save him a spot.

Naturally, the narrow restaurant was crowded with shoppers and the many outside tables—normally packed—were empty due to inclement weather. When I asked for a table for five, the grandmotherly hostess (aka Strega Nona, who I think was also the owner) tutted and asked where the fifth member of our party was. I could tell this wasn't going to go well.

"He's shopping," I explained. "But he'll meet us later for dessert."

I was prepared for one of those "we can't seat you until your party is all here" spiels, but instead she huffed and said something even more frustrating, "You are going to order food...right?"

It was the "dot-dot-dot, right" that killed me.

I blinked.

Twice.

Why would she ask that question? Sometimes I think (and this is something that is probably common with mixed race folk though we don't readily admit it), "Is it because I'm not white? Is that why you think I won't order something?" I don't want to go there, but I've been learned to be disappointed by presumptuous people. And she looked presumptuous. It wouldn't be the first time someone assumed something incorrect about me based on my appearance.

I wanted to scream, "I'm half-Italian! Aren't you Italian, too?" But instead I said."Yes, we're here for lunch." We were standing in the crowded entry and people were pushing past us bumping their shopping bags into ours and all I could think was, "I'm getting out of here." But at that moment she sighed and said, "Hold on, let me prepare a table."  And so we waited.

fall. beauties.

It was cold today, but that didn't stop us from taking a pre-dinner walk outside. My plan was to leave the house while it was still light out and be out walking the neighborhood as it turned to dusk.

We are all a little antsy in the late afternoon. Work is wrapping up for the day and yet I sit at my monitor just in case one more email comes in. My to-do list has only three checks on it. The empty boxes are mocking me. I need to get outside.

The girls have gone from games to drawing to playing and are just about to start causing little rows. So we threw on our hodge-podge of it's-cold-but-we-live-in-California attire (jackets, dresses, scarves, shoes with no socks) and prepare to head out. Before we could leave Bunny needed to get her diary. Wallie grabbed her stuffed rabbit.